From: <Mrs. Tammy Galindo Tren-con> email@example.com
Sweetie, I just have to tell you that everybody in the office is like OFFICIALLY annoying. I mean they’re laughing at me right now because I’m writing to you again. Like, hello? Am I not supposed to talk to my husband every day? Sweetie, is there a way we can make these people understand that we’re like actually MARRIED? Not like I expect them to ever understand how special the bond is between a corporation and its lawfully wedded wife—I mean, how could they? They’re the same people who said we couldn’t really get married because corporations aren’t people. Like YOU Trenkie—not REAL! I mean, who could be more real-persony than you? That is totally what our love is all about—it was like BAM! and your personiness just swept me off my feet! But they’re just like, “Tammy, you’re so stupid, Tren-con is just a company.”
JUST a company?
They are TOTALLY clueless, even though I showed them the first memo with all the best parts hi-lighted, like when it says “marriage between a woman and a supra-personal transnational entity is deemed entirely legal” and “there exists no legal impediment to the creation of such a union between two willing persons of human or corporate nature.” They read all that and they’re so dumb they still don’t get it. But when I read that memo (which I do every day!), all I can do is remember the happiest day of my life, Trenkie, the day when I knew that I could be more than just one of the girls in Accounts Receivable—I could be your loving wife!
And then the day after the first memo came was even better, because that’s the day when you proposed—I mean I guess it was really different from how I always imagined it would be when I got engaged, but it was so romantic too, the way you had the proposal memo HAND-DELIVERED by that lady in HR with the bitchy shoes. Signing the marriage license she gave me, knowing that the big day was actually going to happen, I just couldn’t help jumping and screaming like I did, and it was like totally stupid that she called security. I mean, it was the happiest moment—or actually, when we exchanged our vows was really THE happiest moment, of course, but when we got engaged it was just so nice because no one was really being mean then. The meanness started after that—you know, like as soon as they heard about us, it was like “oh you just think you’re gonna get money” or “Tren-con just wants to keep you in the office and not have to pay you anymore.” I know they don’t understand our love and so everything they say is stupid anyway, but it does hurt when they ALL say it like ALL THE TIME.
And you know Sweetie, in the weeks since our big day I actually did stop getting paychecks, and sometimes it’s a little hard to explain over and over how I don’t need to get paid anymore since now I live here. I am SO not complaining, but I mean, can we like fire some of them? Isn’t firing people who really, really DESERVE it part of what being a corporation’s wife is all about? You know, like off with their heads or whatever—LOL!!
And could we also maybe do something about Bitchy-shoes? She’s ALL kinds of attitude lately, and I don’t think she gets the whole adoption thing that we talked about. She brought a paper for me to sign yesterday, but it said we’re adopting a company called AKD Associates instead of a baby. I mean, not that a company isn’t a real person, and so I guess that means a real baby too. And of course I will be SUCH a proud mama to AKD and am totally ready for that responsibility with you, Trenkie. But someday we’re also gonna adopt a baby that I can, like, hold, right?
I know we’ve both been so busy since our big day—I can’t believe how busy, now that I’m here all the time. And I just love that, having our whole lives being one like they are now. But sometimes I wish we could have some US TIME. I mean, not necessarily like it was on our big day, when I got to go up to the 7th floor and those people in that really nice lobby shook my hand and everything. But maybe something like that? Maybe one night I could sleep on one of those lobby couches instead of in the A/R office? I need some snuggle time with MY SWEETIE…
Okay, gotta go, honey-baby—break time’s almost up (and that’s another thing—why did Bitchy-shoes say that soon I won’t get breaks anymore? I mean, “there are no breaks from matrimony” doesn’t make any sense, right?). Anyway, I’m SO missing you. Send me a memo soon!
P.S. What will we call AKD? Bitchy-shoes said that it will be just plain AKD, but that’s no name for a baby.
Christopher Killheffer is a writer based in New Haven, CT. His novel, A World of Born, was selected as one of four finalists for the 2011 Leapfrog Press Fiction Prize.