Dear J----,
Stopped by the office the other day to find it quite literally on fire (I’ve been saying for months that that plastic cigarette tray out front should be replaced), and you “gone for quite some time” as the—in this case—appropriately named Fidelity put it. Strangely, she was the only one at the front desk, and there was a pile of checks sitting next to your computer.
Luckily, Bishop from the studio next door had a hose handy and was able to put out the flames before they got anywhere near the magazines. What he was doing with a hose, I can’t say—it looked like they were working on a pretty typical photo shoot, with six-foot-tall models in stilettos and white silk blouses, the kind you see hanging around there all the time. You should really know how to handle a hose, J----, for moments like this. Hose handling is an essential skill for any young office manager. I can hear you saying that I should have given you some training in that area before I passed the position over to you, but one can only foresee so many things, and I wash my hands of the whole affair at this point.
Anyway, I didn’t write to lecture you about checks lying around, just to say that I found the new issue of The Sophist you said had come in for me, so thanks. Just one thing still on the way for me (I cancelled the shipment of Montecristos, don’t worry)—a book, Imaginary Portraits. Just call me when it comes in. I’ll probably be around the corner drinking tea at The Labyrinth, working on the Henry Irving article.
Best,
AD
