Dad just brought the mail in. Among the political ads and credit card offers was a hand-addressed envelope. It looked like a wedding invitation. It felt like a wedding invitation. I don't know anyone other than my sister who's engaged and getting married this year, though, so for a moment before I opened it I savored the mystery of what the envelope might contain, trying to guess who could be surprising me with an invite to a wedding, or a swanky party.
I turned the expensive feeling envelope over, and saw a return address in Salt Lake City, Utah. "Who do we know in Utah?" I thought. The only person I could come up with was Alan, a college friend who was getting his Ph.D. in Utah when we spoke to him last, several years ago.
Then, it dawned on me... Dooce is in Salt Lake City! Dooce likes pretty things. Her personal stationary is probably exquisite, something far, far out of my price range. After all, girlfriend makes more on her ads in an hour than I make in a year. I recently sent her an e-mail. Could she be sending me a note? Maybe an invitation to an exclusive blogger event, like Bossy's visit only more formal, and probably with less karaoke?
My palms began to sweat. I tore open the envelope, heedless of the expensive linen, dying to see what was inside, convinced that Dooce was going to be my new BFF. "Oh my God," I thought, "Maybe it's an invitation to screen her appearance on GMA with her and Leta and her husband! Maybe it's something so cool I can't even guess..."
My heart raced. I pulled the tissue and the invitation out, flipped it over, and, and....
It was an "invitation" to get a Discover card.