Dear Ira Glass,
Over the past
year I spent approximately 225 hours on the New York to Boston/Boston to New
York Chinatown bus, splitting my rides between the famously unpleasant Fung Wah
bus fleet and a slightly less-but-not-by-much pee-smelling bus line called
Lucky Star. Roughly a third of that time I spent listening to archived episodes
of This American Life, a blessing in the form of a distraction from bus
operators’ mercurial driving habits, particularly those of the gentleman who
drives the Lucky Star bus between Boston and New York at 3pm on Fridays.
But anyway,
let’s get down to it. Mr. Glass, I am looking for sperm. Not for right now, but
maybe in six, seven years? I am asking you because I believe that nobody’s
sperm could ever possibly be as wonderful as yours, except of course mine, if I
could only produce it. In any case, I’ll take the second best to me, which
again I’ll clarify is you. I assure you that your sperm would be mixed
with prime, nonpareil eggs, those of my partner, Ruby. She is a teacher,
dedicated and passionate in dealings with youth and education, and is, in my
opinion, attractive.
I realize that
you are married and have children of your own, but this detail is one that we
find minor, as we need only your sperm and not the rest of your life. It has
also occurred to us that you might not be interested in assisting a couple of
lesbians in their quest to find sperm from good stock simply because of the
potential logistical issues that may come about from us having to pester you
for your biological goods over and over should my partner Ruby not get pregnant
on the first, second, or third try.
At the ultimate
least, please know that we are paying a compliment. We are coming to you for
sperm because we adore your demeanor and general good reasoning. We do not have
our sights set specifically on our having a baby journalist prodigy, but we are
in love with the idea of having a child with any of the good qualities you
portray via your radio programming. We would be overjoyed to have you in our
family without actually having you, you know, in our family.
All the best,
Marie D.
Boston,
Ma
