Day 16: A Thanksgiving E-mail

I don't typically consider myself a lonely person, but I will be spending my first Thanksgiving away from family today. As I have just moved to LA, it just wasn't in the budget to go home this year. But the good news is that I received a very promising e-mail for a new potential mate! Not sure who she is, but it sounds like she's really into me. Maybe you can help me decipher it. Here is it: 

Hi, sweetheart! How are u? What's up?
My name is Kirstin.
So, I really do not know from what to start. Maybe from it..
One of my girlfriends showed me ur pics and I felt in love them so much!
I search for interesting, sedate male for for a very long time but there're tons of assholes who are just seducing me to fuck and then leaving me alone.
I am sure u are one of them!
So, if u r a good pal then I wait for your mail.

Oh goodness, what should I say back? 
I'd love to ask about which of my good female friends shared my pics with her. I need to give those females a pat on the back. 
But I need clarity on a few things... 
It seems like she is looking for "sedate" males, but I am currently on no medication. Would this be a deal breaker? 
Also, she seems to look down upon guys who want to have relations with her and leave, yet then she says "I am sure u are one of them." What morals am I adhering to here? I will gladly oblige.  
Also, I don't have her mail address so I suppose she'll be waiting a long time for my "mail."

Maybe I am more lonely than I thought. 

Happy Thanksgiving!

Day 14: How to Avoid Getting Mugged in the Big City

People are often surprised to hear that as a tall, bearded, somewhat intimidatingly-looking guy, I am just afraid as everyone else of getting mugged in a city. But I am. Not afraid to admit it. Maybe because my height and my one ab cannot stop, oh I don’t know, a bullet or a pointy knife. But when I walk around cities alone, since my days of Freshman year jaunts through sketchy streets to get to my Philly Improv Theatre classes, I’ve adopted a certain behavior as a means of self-preservation, almost certainly guaranteeing that no one will mess with me. This is my protocol, and I suggest you should follow it as well:

• Wear a flamboyantly colored hoodie with the hood up. Nothing is more terrifying than a 6'5" man, or anyone for that matter, in a pink pull over hoodie with the hood up. All a person can think is, oh my God, I can’t see his eyes behind that ridiculous monstrosity of a clothing garment.
• Put your earbuds in under the hoodie (so no one can see you’re listening to music), and sing, at full volume, whatever song it is you’re listening to.
• Don’t really sing as much as monotonously troll off the lyrics of the song at a sub-bass register, except when the song has a high note, at which times attempt to hit that note with falsetto. Full volume, people.
• Bands that this is particularly menacing for are Arcade Fire, Modest Mouse, and Coldplay. (Imagine a person in a pink hoodie saying out loud to herself “I want to fix you” as monotonously as possible. Who is going to mug that woman? She could have a baby bear in that hoodie, how would you know?)
• Every once in a while, as you’re walking, do a twirl.

Obviously, the only way to ensure safety against insane people is to prove that you are more insane, which scares the crap out of them. I have never been mugged people, so obviously these measures are justified. This message is brought to you by my lonely walk home from drinks with my friend Mark, and day 14 of funemployment, otherwise know as LA: Day 14.

Day 7: A Sad Observation

"Don't Think Twice, It's Alright" by Bob Dylan makes me cry. This has happened several times since leaving Atlanta.

Day 6: I Meet My Landlady

(Into my apartment walks my landlady Bonnie, a short woman scantly 70 pounds, who - among other details - doesn't own a car in Los Angeles)

Bonnie: Oh Jesse, such a pleasure to meet you. 
Me: Nice to meet you as well. 
Bonnie: I called you several times to check in, but you never picked up. 
Me: Oh... yes, I got your messages, but the number was "restricted." And you didn't leave a number.
Bonnie: I don't give out my number.
Me: Oh.
Bonnie: I've had some problems in the past.
Me: Problems?
Bonnie: Just harassment. If you want to contact me, just slip an index card into my mail slot. With a note on it, obviously.
Me: Oh, of course.
Bonnie: Now you have to push it into the slot hard, because there is a covering on the inside part of it. I've had some problems in the past...

(She looks very... I don't know. But she's trembling)

Me: ...Problems?
Bonnie: I had a peeping Tom.
Me: What? In this neighborhood?!
Bonnie: Oh, not a peeping Tom, but residents who would look in my mail slot to see if I was home, and they'd yell "I know you're in there! Come out and answer my questions!"

(Now, she's laughing)

Me: Oh. Kay.
Bonnie: Now, the keys.
Me: Yes.
Bonnie: There are three keys. This one goes to the front door.

(I check. It does)

Bonnie: This one goes to the back door.

(I check. It does)

Bonnie: And this one goes to the dead bolt.

(I check. It doesn't)

Me: Oh, this one doesn't seem to be working.
Bonnie: It goes to the dead bolt.

(I check. It doesn't)

Me: It's not working.
Bonnie: Oh. Well I'm going to write down that you have three keys.
Me: But this one doesn't work.
Bonnie: But I gave you three keys. So I'm going to write that down here...

(She writes on my lease)

Me: But... What do I do with this key-?
Bonnie: Oh, see I wrote it down here. Three keys. See?

(I check. She did)

Me: But I don't want this key.
Bonnie: But I gave it to you. So. Three keys.
Me: ...
Bonnie: Now let's check the kitchen.

(We go to the kitchen)

Bonnie: Now, it's a little messy...

(It is fairly messy)

Bonnie: But it was clean when your roommate moved in 6 months ago. So, on the lease I'm going to write, "Kitchen, clean."
Me: Uh...
Bonnie: Is there a problem?
Me: You just said it was "messy."
Bonnie: But it was clean when Rebekah moved in.

(Rebekah = my roommate)

Me: 6 months ago.
Bonnie: So I'm going to write down, "Kitchen, clean."
Me: But it's not. It's messy.
Bonnie: So what would you prefer I write?
Me: "Kitchen, messy."
Bonnie: Oh...

(She writes)

Bonnie: I'm going to write down "Kitchen, clean, per Rebekah."
Me: Fine.
Bonnie: Now, we can sign the lease tomorrow, when Rebekah is here.
Me: Fine.

(She leaves. She closes the door daintily. She opens the door daintily. She enters)

Bonnie: Oh, I've also noticed you tend to slam your doors. Could you be careful about that?

(She leaves. She closes the door. Daintily)

Day 1: Ikea

I knock a fire extinguisher off the wall in an Ikea with my big yellow tarp bag. No one notices or cares.