Weezer Wants To Destroy My Sweater
Last Hanukkah, my mom bought me a sweater. It is the ugliest maroon, hobo, knit-from-a-Woman's-Day pattern "sweaterdress" known to man. When I've worn it, all you'd have to do is add a Starbucks cup and some oversized bug sunglasses and I could easily be mistaken for the uglier Olson twin, keeping in mind that I bear no resemblance Mary-Kate whatsoever.
One would think this was a step down and a bad 2005 for the KA, to receive such a hideous gift, but it was, in actuality a step up from what I usually get every year - socks and underwear. With that said, not wanting to hurt my adorable mother's feelings, I kept the sweater in my closet for a few weeks until I realized where it could get the best use, aside from Goodwill.
Shortly after the sweater acquisition, I brought my ugly sweaterdress to work so that I could wear it when I was cold - which was pretty much every day. I don't know who these building maintenance people are, but offices are places of commerce and trade, not f*cking meat freezers. Even in July or August, all you'd really have to do is throw some rock salt on my ass and strategically place some wasabi next to me and you'd be ready to serve me tartare.
That sweater has now served me well through nine months and two different jobs. It matches nothing. It looks awful. It's snagged in the elbows and has even paralyzed me once or twice, with knit loopholes so big that I've gotten up from my chair and gotten the sweater stuck on the armrest, ripping giant holes into its long, sad, boho sleeves and nearly ripping my forearm out of its socket. But like an abusive boyfriend you know isn't good for you, I love it anyway.
This afternoon, some bastard at work stole my sweater. Yes, there was a kidnapping. Of the sweater. I didn't realize it until I received this email in my inbox (please note: the culprit's typos are verbatim and kept in this post for authenticity purposes only...Lord help me if I ever misspell something common this badly):
One would think this was a step down and a bad 2005 for the KA, to receive such a hideous gift, but it was, in actuality a step up from what I usually get every year - socks and underwear. With that said, not wanting to hurt my adorable mother's feelings, I kept the sweater in my closet for a few weeks until I realized where it could get the best use, aside from Goodwill.
Shortly after the sweater acquisition, I brought my ugly sweaterdress to work so that I could wear it when I was cold - which was pretty much every day. I don't know who these building maintenance people are, but offices are places of commerce and trade, not f*cking meat freezers. Even in July or August, all you'd really have to do is throw some rock salt on my ass and strategically place some wasabi next to me and you'd be ready to serve me tartare.
That sweater has now served me well through nine months and two different jobs. It matches nothing. It looks awful. It's snagged in the elbows and has even paralyzed me once or twice, with knit loopholes so big that I've gotten up from my chair and gotten the sweater stuck on the armrest, ripping giant holes into its long, sad, boho sleeves and nearly ripping my forearm out of its socket. But like an abusive boyfriend you know isn't good for you, I love it anyway.
This afternoon, some bastard at work stole my sweater. Yes, there was a kidnapping. Of the sweater. I didn't realize it until I received this email in my inbox (please note: the culprit's typos are verbatim and kept in this post for authenticity purposes only...Lord help me if I ever misspell something common this badly):
Sent: Thursday, August 10, 2006 3:13 PM
To: KA (ATL-FG)
Subject: Missing anything?...
Have you checked the back of your chair lately? Missing anything... go ahead, I'll wait. That's right I've taken your big burgundy sweater...why? I don't know why. Maybe because I've longed for its wooly embrace, maybe because I look better than you in it, maybe because I can care for it in ways I no you can't or maybe I was just board and wanted to create some mystery in the office place or maybe big burgundy sweaters went out in the 80's and I'm doing you a favor. None of that is important now.
I will be in contact with you shortly with a list of demands and riddles that if followed and answered correctly will bring you closer to your burgundy buddy.
The first thing I did was mass-email my department, figuring that the perpatrator of this violent, unnecessary crime was probably somewhere close to home. I forwarded the message, and in my haste, wrote, "Which one of you has my swear?" Of course, I realized the typo as soon as I hit "send". I'm sure a lecture about accuracy and doublechecking my work is forthcoming from my boss. Not to mention a possible chastise for misusing the department mass email function in Microsoft Outlook.
About an hour later, the culprit had the audacity to follow up with me:
Sent: Thursday, August 10, 2006 4:02 PM
To: KA (ATL-FG)
Subject: Riddle #1...
You have 60min. to complete the following riddle or one button will be cut off and sent to you via UPS (3 day ground of course) KA went out to a new sweater. She spent half of what she had plus $5. at the first store. She spent half of what was left plus $4. at the second store. At the third store she spent half of the remainder plus $3. She then had $5. left to buy hair coloring products. How much money did she start with?
Okay, that was about enough. I can't imagine how anyone would know about my obsession with coloring my hair, but seriously - it's a bad habit that spawns from boring phases of my life. Every time I'm bored, I try a different color. At least I'm not shoplifting or plucking hairs out of my head or anything. Christ, it could be so much worse!
And I'd like to point out that obviously, it's not someone who knows that I go to a salon to get my hair professionally colored. That would rule out any fellow customers or fabulous acquaintances of Gay Ken, hair color ingenue that he is.
I replied with, "I don't negotiate with kidnappers", and took matters into my own hands. I created a "Missing" note, and ran off about 15 copies to post all over the office. I even gave one to our receptionist, who loves me to pieces and gave me wholehearted permission to plaster it all over the place:
MISSING!
AGE: UNKNOWN
RACE: BURGUNDY
LAST SEEN: 8/10/06, EARLY MORNING ON CHAIR
OTHER: RESPONDS TO THE NAME "SWEAR"
** IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION REGARDING THIS SWEATER,
PLEASE CONTACT KA AT x6891
THERE WILL BE A HEFTY CASH REWARD!
MISSING!
AGE: UNKNOWN
RACE: BURGUNDY
LAST SEEN: 8/10/06, EARLY MORNING ON CHAIR
OTHER: RESPONDS TO THE NAME "SWEAR"
** IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION REGARDING THIS SWEATER,
PLEASE CONTACT KA AT x6891
THERE WILL BE A HEFTY CASH REWARD!
I received a few more emails counting down my time to answer the riddle, and I replied with some clever responses, but to no avail. My sweater is still missing.
I guess I always blanched when I read those creepy articles in "Glamour" about needless crime happening in my very backyard (or cube, in this instance), but now I know it's for real. And instead of sitting back, complacently, waiting for my beloved garment to reappear, I'm taking action. I would highly recommend that any of you readers who are as upset by this incident as I am contact bigburgundysweaterstealer@hotmail.com in the hopes that solidarity and safety in numbers will bring resolution.
I'll keep you posted.
posted by KA @ 2:50 PM
2 Comments:
This is straight hilarious, yo.
Tine, it's pretty unf*ckingbelievable. I keep hoping that the culprit is the cute boy on the third floor that I've spotted, but something in my gut tells me that bet is a little too optimistic.
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