Dear Corporal Sauer,

We regret to inform you that, due to significant improvements in drone technology, your job as a Special Forces sniper has been eliminated.
We truly appreciate your years of service and sincerely regret the permanent moral injury you sustained during active duty. Accordingly, we’ve enrolled you in our job retraining program. Below you’ll find several skill-adjacent employment options to help you manage the kickback to civilian life.

1. Meteorologist. Your talent for split-second calculations of wind direction, barometric pressure, and temperature doesn’t just come in handy when you need to land a kill shot. Nailing that tornado warning could save the lives of countless octogenarian e-trikers in Omaha.

2. National Geographic Photographer. What better way to redeploy your fieldcraft than tracking the elusive Himalayan snow leopard? The precision of your long-range Nikon will feel almost as good as your McMillan TAC-338, plus you’ll get to break that winter ghillie suit out of storage! But please, remember your training and avoid unnecessary risks; your predecessor thought it would be fun to take a selfie with the big cat. A crushed trachea is no joke. But, as we like to say, “next man up!”

3. Male Model. Your experience marching in Independence Day parades wearing dress blues will serve you well as you sashay down the runway in a fashion-forward Gucci ensemble. Not quite the same as rumbling down the tarmac in the belly of a C-17, but you’ll get the hang of it. Go ahead, monetize that tortured scowl! Strike a sniper pose!

4. Mall Cop. While it may not offer the adrenaline rush of dropping an enemy combatant at 573 yards, patrolling Bath and Body Works is important work. You’ll be doing what you do best: trusting your gut. Belinda has, in fact, boosted a Pink Pineapple Sunrise bath bomb and buried it under her hoodie. It’s up to you to defuse the situation and intercept her before her Mom notices. Splash!

5. Stand-Up Comic. You didn’t survive three tours in Afghanistan without developing a wicked sense of humor. Don’t waste it! There’s a hostile, divided audience out there just waiting for your cynicism and gruesome, but hilarious anecdotes! Don’t worry about your blank stare; they’ll think it’s part of the act.

6. Embroidery Instructor. Your unflinching patience, tolerance for prolonged isolation, and ability to maintain steady tension throughout any endeavor make you the ideal candidate for this demanding position. We’ll be cheering you on as you make the transition from crosshairs to cross stitch!

7. Target Cashier. Hear us out. It’s no reticle, but the bullseye logo will remind you of simpler, happier times on that rooftop in Fallujah. And, in the unlikely event that restocking XShot Hyperload Water Blasters in Aisle 13 triggers your PTSD, you’ll be covered. You have a walkie-talkie; you can warn the others! INCOMING!! ENGAGE!! Sure, you’ll be ‘fired,’ but what a great story to share at your next trauma-focused retreat!

Once you’ve made your selection, we’ll schedule you for training. And again, thank you for your service. We can’t wait to see what you kill next!

Sincerely,

The Army

Job Retraining For Unemployed Snipers was originally published in The Haven on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Dear Phoebe,

Your dietary bullying and harassment are literally making me sick. I demand that you immediately discontinue your hostile eating habits. These include (but are not limited to):

• physically threatening me with unsaturated fats;
• publicly humiliating me with artificial sweeteners;
• and subjecting me to toxic quantities of sodium phosphates.

As an anaerobic ecosystem, I’m part of a protected class. I have the right to operate in a safe environment!

Last week, you offered to take me out for a “nice” lunch at Olive Garden. You ordered an inappropriately large serving of garlic bread, taunted me with the Five Cheese Ziti al Forno, and finished with a lewd dessert of Chocolate Lasagna. You seemed surprised at my discomfort, and claimed the meal was part of an “innocent Mediterranean Diet!”

I’ve tried to communicate my concerns discreetly, but you’ve responded with even more hostility. As I recall, after the Olive Garden incident, you told me to “shut up and metabolize.” Just another example of how you humiliate and disrespect me.

As an essential member of your anatomical team, I object to your unwelcome behavior. Maintaining a healthy balance of bacteria, fungi, and viruses is a stressful job in the best of circumstances. But it’s almost impossible to absorb nutrients and synthesize essential vitamins when you provide few, if any, healthy resources.

Not only must I flawlessly execute my digestive responsibilities, but you also expect me to regulate your immune system. While I do my best to hide the enormous pressure I’m under, I do occasionally exhibit signs of distress, such as bloating or cramping. You react to these cries for help by shrieking about your “leaky gut” to everyone in the room. These displays of rage cause me great inflammation and do nothing to motivate me.

You should know that I’m entitled to reasonable accommodations, including:

• a daily serving of leafy greens (e.g., arugula or romaine lettuce);
• lean proteins (e.g., salmon or skinless poultry);
• and supplemental cruciferous vegetables (e.g., steamed broccoli or roasted cauliflower)

Instead, you seem to delight in causing me discomfort by subjecting me to fistfuls of Chili Cheese Fritos. When I’m understandably slow to digest them, you mock me.

I admit that I’ve had performance challenges in the past. Allowing a rogue pathogen to breach your intestinal barrier was a regrettable incident. But I responded quickly and decisively, with detoxification and subsequent repair of your intestinal lining. It was a rare lapse in judgment; you could have supported me with a slice of dry toast and a few tablespoons of applesauce. Your disparaging feedback — an entire bag of Double Stuf Oreos — caused me debilitating anxiety and hampered my recovery efforts.

I demand an immediate investigation and an action plan to address my concerns. I will promptly report any attempts at retaliation, such as a three-day fast, a protracted liquid diet, or a daily slurry of kale and wheat grass. If you engage in such performative behaviors, I won’t hesitate to retain a gastroenterologist.

I’m committed to the important work of managing the trillions of microorganisms in your gut. But I won’t tolerate any further exploitation of the power imbalance between us. Let me remind you that I do enjoy a modicum of intestinal influence. It would be extremely embarrassing, I’m sure, to find yourself projectile vomiting during your next Tinder hookup. You’ve been warned.

Sincerely,

Your Microbiome

I’m Your Microbiome and I’m Filing a Workplace Harassment Claim was originally published in Jane Austen’s Wastebasket on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Dear Jaylene,

Last night, I caught my husband, “Wayne,” watching Jeep porn. He slammed his laptop shut, but not before I saw what was on his screen:

A winch shackle

A snatch block

37-inch tires

Does he think I’m an idiot? I saw Jurassic Park; I know how this stuff works!

We drive a perfectly serviceable 2010 Toyota Sienna minivan in Silver Shadow Pearl, and Wayne’s been fine with it until now. Sure, it’s roomy, and it’s got a few scratches and dents, but that’s because we’ve been driving it for fifteen years. It does tend to run low on oil, but there are treatments for that, and I make sure it’s washed and waxed every week.

He insists there’s no harm in checking out a few pictures, and he swears he hasn’t actually driven a Jeep. Still, I feel hurt and betrayed!

Please don’t tell me his behavior is harmless; what if our twelve-year-old son sees those pictures? Is Trevor going to normalize riding in a JEEP? Will he expect every car to roar when he turns it on?

Please help!

Signed,

Slow and Steady

Dear Slow and Steady,

I’m sorry to hear about your distressing discovery. It’s perfectly natural for you to feel threatened and resentful. But try to “pump the brakes” and give Wayne a little grace. His Jeep-peeping is a call for help; he craves a more exciting driving experience.

This isn’t uncommon for men who’ve been driving the same car for a while. They may grow tired of the cruise control and limited gear choices. The important thing is to remain calm. Be curious, not judgmental!

What is it exactly about the Jeep that attracts him? Is it the huge tires? The ability to drive “off-road”? The nerve to go topless just about anywhere?

Perhaps there’s a way to spice up the minivan that doesn’t feel dangerous to you. Could you replace the family decal with a racing stripe? Retrofit the front seats with sheepskin covers? Or surprise him with a black Nappa leather steering wheel grip? These simple gestures will reassure him that you hear him and are willing to compromise.

If these concessions don’t satisfy his need to fondle a bolder, better-equipped vehicle, consider buying him a toy Jeep. Amazon offers plenty of options, and you can rest assured that your “gift” will arrive in discreet packaging.

If it’s visual stimulation he craves, maybe you could watch Jeep videos together. As long as everyone feels safe, it could really enhance your automotive life. You might even find that you enjoy it!

My next suggestion may come as a surprise, but it works for many couples in your situation. You could explore an “open” car relationship. Let him rent a Jeep for a weekend. As long as it’s not parked in your driveway where it’s visible to your neighbors and kids, this might be a way to “get it out of his system.” Who knows, he may find that the noise, rigid steering column, and huge tires (which are aftermarket, by the way) are actually quite uncomfortable.

As distressing as it is, try to keep the problem in perspective. Jeeps age, too! Wayne’s off-road adventures will undoubtedly result in numerous dents, scratches, or even a dislocated axle. And Wayne will eventually struggle to keep up. He’ll need to invest in a step stool, grab handles, or other assistive devices. He might find that he misses the comfort of the minivan!

Sadly, none of these strategies may prove successful. If Wayne starts looking for garage space, you’ll need to accept that your marriage is over. In that case, know that you did your very best. Take time to grieve, then get back out there! There’s a 2025 Porsche 911 in Carmine Red just dying to meet you.

Jaylene

Help! My Husband is Addicted to Jeep Porn! was originally published in The Haven on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

I appreciate your interest in hanging out with me! I know it takes courage to “put yourself out there,” especially when there’s almost no chance I’ll respond. Honestly, you’ve got better odds of being crushed by a meteorite.

If you enjoy spending weeks crafting an intriguing submission, only to face rejection because I forgot to mention I’m not attracted to guys who wear Crocs, then by all means query me!

With a robust stable of established FWBs, I can afford to be selective. That said, I’m always on the lookout for the next loathsome man-child that I can develop into a sentient adult.

WISHLIST

My taste in men is wide-ranging. I’m always in the mood for guys with dark secrets, unexplained stashes of foreign currency, and multiple forged passports. If I spot you outside the Bolivian embassy, surrounded by men wearing shapeless suits, earpieces, and rubber-soled shoes, I’m in!

I’m particularly drawn to emotionally scarred narratives. If you wake up screaming “MOM, STOP!” in the middle of the night, you’ll capture my heart.

Mashups intrigue me. Tell me you’re the image of Idris Elba, but manifest Matthew Broderick’s whimsical charm, and I’ll want to know more.

Above all, I’m on the hunt for finely wrought physiques, intoxicating intellects, and captivating investment portfolios.

I’m specifically seeking men in the following genres:

Mystery/Suspense. I love to be surprised! Is Hamish your real name? Will you call me after our first date? What are those pink panties doing in your laundry basket(if they’re yours, that’s completely fine; I welcome underrepresented voices!)?

Crime/Thrillers. I’m a sucker for gripping and propulsive beaus. I’m not a good fit for felons, unless your offense was righteous(rescuing your sister from Falun Gong) or endearing(a hilarious misunderstanding with ICE). I’ll consider homicidal sociopaths, but only if you prioritize psychological terror over graphic violence and you kill in a way that makes me want to root for you.

Romance. Fine, as long as you go easy on velvet waistcoats, have a sensible haircut, and don’t indulge in excessive brooding.

I’m no longer seeking young adults, extraterrestrials, or anyone who served in the Gulf War.

SUBMISSION GUIDELINES

Please provide a brief bio and include any relationship credentials you might have. Escort services don’t count.

If I invited you to query me at a speed-dating event or if this is a referral, please provide details. I won’t read your submission, but I’ll make sure to send a form rejection.

I receive hundreds of queries every week, so I’m unable to offer a personalized response. If you don’t hear from me after 3 months, assume it’s a “no.”

However, if another woman expresses interest in you, please let me know immediately, so I can move you to the top of my slush pile. I’d hate to miss out on the next George Clooney!

If I’m interested in your submission, I’ll request additional materials: a DNA sample, a virtual tour of your residence, and a background check that includes redacted juvenile records.

Please don’t query multiple women simultaneously. It makes you look desperate and creates an unnecessary backlog for me. If I think you’d be a better fit for one of my friends, I’ll forward your query to her.

DEALING WITH REJECTION

Querying is a highly subjective process, so don’t be discouraged if I decline to move forward, even just for a cup of coffee. Other women may feel differently.

Perhaps your premise intrigued me, but I wasn’t drawn into your narrative the way I’d need to be to offer you a relationship. Example: you’re a slam poet and former Navy SEAL, but you spent three pages gushing about your albino ferret rescue foundation.

If I’ve rejected you, you may resubmit your query after six months, but only if you’ve made substantial revisions, such as receiving a life-altering inheritance, getting a jowl lift, or improving your listening skills.

Thank you for thinking of me. I wish you all the best in your doomed dating journey!

Welcome to My Dating Query Portal was originally published in The Haven on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

In response to the incessant ranting about America’s “broken” health system, we’re proud to introduce The Federal Organ Exchange Program. Now, even uninsured Americans can access life-saving medical care!

The concept is simple: if you’re hospitalized but can’t afford the cost of treatment, you can give us one of your organs in lieu of cash payment.

As with any brilliantly conceived government program, you’ll probably have questions — maybe even concerns. Do us a favor and check out the FAQs below before contacting the liberal media or organizing mass protests.

Q. Are you serious?

A. Deadly. No more draining precious tax dollars to treat your fourth-degree burns after a faulty gas line leaked under your public housing block. We’re not going to save your life for free.

Q. Um, can I at least choose which organ I give you?

A. That’s the spirit! Yes, within certain parameters. We’ll harvest any organ in good working condition including but not limited to kidneys, liver segments, lungs and corneas.

Q. What if I’m unconscious and can’t choose?

A. In that case, your medical team will assess your condition and your overall health to determine which organ to harvest.

Kidding! We’ll consult regional inventory data and take it from there. If you reside near an area known for unsafe air quality, you’ll probably have to cough up a lung. Don’t forget to breathe!

Q. What if I’ve got a massive brain hemorrhage? Is my neurosurgeon trained to harvest organs?

A. More or less. Most of them garden to reduce stress and, other than the thickness of the gloves, it’s not that different from digging out a root vegetable. If you were hoping for a transplant team, forget it; that shit costs money.

Q. I have cancer. Am I still eligible for the program?

A. Absolutely, as long as the malignancy manifests as a solid tumor and hasn’t metastasized to eligible organs. Blood cancer is a deal-breaker. We wouldn’t want to risk the health of our recipients. But we appreciate your interest!

Q. Speaking of recipients, who gets my organ?

A. Patients with comprehensive health care coverage or generational wealth, obviously. Side note: we’ll offer any excess organs to Russian oligarchs. Those dudes go through livers like you wouldn’t believe.

Q. Do women also have “the right to choose” which organ to provide?

A. Hey, watch your tone! But yes, thanks to pro-natal policies that affirm your God-given purpose, you ladies have oodles of options. We’re seeing ginormous demand for ovaries and uteri, which can be harvested individually or as a “baby-making bundle.” For obvious reasons, we only accept reproductive organs from virgins between the ages of 13 and 24.

Q. What if I have a treatable illness or a minor injury and only need antibiotics or a splint? Do I still need to give you an organ?

A. Ok, this isn’t a negotiation. Remember, you can’t afford to pay us! Yes, we’ll still get our pound of flesh. So, think twice before seeking emergency medical attention. If you have bronchitis, stay home until it turns into double pneumonia. And forget about sprains. We’d hate to excavate a kidney in exchange for an ace bandage, but that’s on you.

Q. There are 27.9 million Americans without health insurance. Notwithstanding the Russian after-market, won’t you end up with way more organs than you need?

A. Nope. Current federal recommendations to avoid vaccinations, screenings and other preventive health care will soon result in a US mortality rate similar to that of a land-locked African country. So, a shitload of you will die before you get to the hospital, quickly and efficiently resolving any imbalances. That’s what we in government call integrated federal policy. You’re welcome.

Q. Is the enrollment process complicated?

A. Not at all. If you’re uninsured — and we know who you are — you’ve been automatically enrolled!

Q. What if I refuse to participate?

A. And you wonder why no one likes poor people! We serve you this big, beautiful program on a fucking platter and all you do is whine!

While “laws” and “regulations” require us to offer an opt-out clause, that won’t end well. Non-participants can expect to wait an average of 5.3 days in the emergency room before being seen. If you arrive by ambulance, hospital staff are instructed to wheel your gurney into a sound-proof supply closet and leave you there. Your choice.

We hope this bulletin has been helpful and we welcome your feedback, as long as it’s positive.

_____

Inspiration: “A Modest Proposal,” by Jonathan Swift

The Federal Organ Exchange Program was originally published in The Haven on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

God has announced plans to pursue Name, Image and Likeness (NIL) agreements.

“It’s an obvious next step for me,” He explained to ESPN’s Scott Van Pelt. “I feel like it’s time to control my personal brand and capitalize on my fame. For centuries now, I’ve been leaving money on the table.”

When asked about potential sponsorships, The Lord was surprisingly candid.

“Well, Gatorade, obviously. They may call it a ‘shower,’ but we all know it’s a baptism. That’s been happening since the 1980s and I haven’t seen a dime.”

The Almighty also mentioned ongoing negotiations with Meta (“although Zuckerberg creeps me out”) and Verizon (“I use a shitload of data”).

Asked to confirm rumors of a deal with Tesla, He answered, “I’ll let Satan take that one.”

The Lord has retained super-agent Drew Rosenhaus to negotiate deals on His behalf. Rosenhaus noted that God’s NIL ambitions extend well beyond traditional sponsorships.

“Look at all the teams that ‘take a knee’ before games. That’s a prime example of trading on His image,” Rosenthal said, appearing at a joint press conference with the Heavenly Father.

“And how about all those players shouting ‘All Glory to God’ in their post-game interviews? I feel like those teams owe my Client something.”

“And don’t get me started on jewelry,” the Lord added. “People claim crucifixes are in the public domain, but that’s bullshit. We’ve all seen baseball players kissing their necklaces and pointing to Me after hitting a home run. You’d have to be a complete idiot to miss the connection.”

Rosenthal outlined his divine NIL strategy. “If universities don’t come to the table voluntarily, they can expect a ‘cease and desist’ letter,” he told reporters.

When asked which universities have expressed interest, the Lord answered, “The SEC jumped on this right away; their boosters are very familiar with the ‘pay to pray’ model.”

“He’s omnipresent,” Rosenthal reminded reporters. “He can literally play everywhere at once. He’ll commit to any team that’s willing to pony up.”

“Look, I hate to sound like Shedeur Sanders, but my value is basically infinite,” God added. No ‘one and done’ for me; I’ll stick with teams for all Eternity. And good fucking luck to the ones that think they can win without me.”

God Discloses NIL (Name, Image and Likeness) Ambitions was originally published in The Haven on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Hi Ladies,

I’m ready to confirm what many of you have guessed: I’m transitioning to pickleball.

It’s taken months of self-reflection, considerable mental health support, and the purchase of a surprisingly affordable paddle from Target, but I’ve finally made peace with who I am.

Let’s be clear, this isn’t a choice. I desperately wanted to be a tennis player, but I never felt comfortable on the court. I had an uncontrollable urge to stand right at the service line, anchor my feet and get super close to the ball. I got panic attacks when someone popped open a can of pressurized Wilsons. I was hard to play with, and I apologize for that. But I realize now that I was manifesting symptoms of racket sport dysphoria.

I’ve done a lot of research, and I know this transition will be painful. I’ll have to change my grip, shorten my backswing and develop a blistering underhand serve. I understand the risks. So, I really don’t need to hear about your second cousin whose retina detached when her opponent smashed a ball at her from the no-volley zone. You think tennis isn’t dangerous? Once, my partner’s femur fractured as she sprinted to return a drop shot. Her screams still haunt me.

Am I scared? Sure. But I remind myself that I’ll be free of torn rotator cuffs, a fourth knee replacement and those obscenely expensive visits to the med spa for post-match IV fluids. The fact that I won’t be forced to wear the skort version of a Disney Princess nightie is an added bonus.

I kindly request that you respect my privacy. I wouldn’t dream of asking you what it’s like to lose a lob in the sun and bungle your return. So why do you think it’s okay to interrogate me about how it feels to open my paddle face? And your snarky comments about my “noisy, hollow balls” are just cruel. Boundaries, ladies!

While the pickleball community has gained a lot of visibility, that doesn’t mean we’ve been accepted. Players still have to tolerate stares, laughter, and snide remarks. That’s why advocacy and legal protections are so important.

But recently, the administration has pledged to “KEEP TENNIS PLAYERS OUT OF PICKLEBALL!!! Coaches can no longer post instructive videos on YouTube, provide equipment advice, or even offer tips on how to achieve optimal topspin.

Trump claims that pickleball discriminates against tennis players, especially those who wear whites. During his last press conference, he openly mocked the sport: “that ball sounds like a chihuahua in heat; it’s disgusting.” What about the grunting, oofing, and thumping we’re subjected to during tennis matches? Why isn’t he talking about that?

I saw on the news that the US Tennis Association showed up unannounced at a community center and “detained” a foursome of octogenarians. They didn’t even give them time to put away the nets. Is this who we are now?

Know this: the community will not be silenced by intolerance, intimidation or fear mongering. Pickleball players reject the notion that they are dangerous and need to be isolated from society. In fact, you probably know someone who’s embarked on their pickleball journey. Maybe it’s your nephew, or your aunt, or even your son’s girlfriend. Think about that before you rant about “those attention-seeking deviants” at your next family reunion.

Yesterday, I met a young woman in my beginners’ pickleball clinic. She told me her parents expect her to get a tennis scholarship to college and begged me not to betray her secret. I assured her that that’s their dream, not hers! She’s so afraid to tell them, she pretended to have a “friend” who’s transitioning. They went nuts. They told her teenagers are way too young to make that kind of life-changing decision.

So, for now, she hides her paddle in her tennis bag. My heart breaks for her. Hopefully, she’ll find the courage to come out as a pickleball player one day. If this is your daughter, please respect her decision even if you don’t understand it. Remember: she’s still your child.

It’s such a relief to share my truth and I hope we can maintain our friendship. After all, I’m the same person. I just happen to play a different sport.

Best,

Kara

Kara Teevan Boatman is a humor writer and aspiring novelist. Her work has appeared in Slackjaw, The Belladonna Comedy and The Haven. She’s a contributing writer to Sports Riot (@sportsriot). Find her on Twitter (KBTeevan) and Instagram (@kbteevan).

A Letter To My Tennis Team: Please Respect My Privacy as I Transition to Pickleball was originally published in The Belladonna Comedy on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Residents of Maple Street:
In an effort to build community and celebrate quality fiction, I’ve put up a Little Free Library.

Here’s what I’ve stocked so far:
Absolution (Alice McDermott)
Let Us Descend (Jesmyn Ward)
James (Percival Everett)
Demon Copperhead (Barbara Kingsolver)
The Covenant of Water (Abraham Verghese)

As you can see, I’m predisposed to beautifully rendered and intricately plotted narratives. All genres are welcome; just donate something you think others would enjoy. Let’s expand our literary horizons together!
453 Maple

Dear 453 Maple,
Great idea! I’m going to borrow Let Us Descend and drop off one of my favorites: The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo.
657 Maple

Dear 657,
Thank you! I can’t wait to hear how you think Taylor Jenkins Reid’s tired tabloid rehash of closeted celebrities compares to the heart-wrenching portrayal of a slave girl’s resilience in the face of terrible injustice.
453 Maple

Dear 453 Maple,
Love the library! I’ve borrowed Absolution and replaced it with the first Bridgerton book. Happy to share the rest of the series, space permitting.
722 Maple

Dear 722,
Really? You think because I’m drawn to a riveting story about white savior American expats in Vietnam, I’ll devour a trite romance sprinkled with faux diversity and soft pornography? If you must inflict the entire series on our innocent little library, please include a generous supply of Zofran.
657 Maple

Hi 453 Maple,
Just borrowed Demon Copperhead and replaced it with It Ends With Us. Let’s keep it going!
329 Maple

Dear 329,
Just because you’ve survived a lethal overdose of Colleen Hoover’s treacly dialogue doesn’t mean you can handle Kingsolver’s brilliant, tender portrayal of the opioid crisis in rural America. I have a Shop-Vac® you can borrow when your head explodes.
453 Maple

Dear 453,
I’ve been hesitant to join in here, but I’m going to take the plunge! I’ve dropped off Where the Crawdads Sing and chosen James.
623 Maple

Dear 623,
Good for you, for tackling a book for grownups! And thanks for donating Owens’ improbable murder mystery shoehorned into a tedious lecture about the North Carolina marshland. I know we all enjoy a good literary waterboarding.
453 Maple

Dear 453,
I’ve added “Handle With Care,” an oldie but goodie by Jodi Picoult. I chose The Covenant of Water.
774 Maple

Dear 774,
Yay for you! I so admire Picoult’s ruthless search for rare medical conditions to stuff into her overwrought, manipulative narratives. Hope you’re not disappointed by Verghese’s absorbing, authentic family saga woven through with obvious medical expertise. Feel free to reach out if you need help with the big words.
453 Maple

Hey 453,
I don’t appreciate your tone or your excruciatingly long sentences. If these bestselling books are so terrible, why do you keep reading them?
657 Maple

Dear 657,
I’m glad you asked. I read all of the overhyped, half-witted crap I can get my hands on, so you don’t have to! Think of me as your literary curator.
By the way, does anyone have a copy of Swan Song? I need Elin Hilderbrand’s latest attempt at good writing, so I can savagely dismiss it.

You’re welcome,
453 Maple

Check Out My Little Free Library! was originally published in The Haven on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Many people are surprised to learn that early onset dementia disproportionately affects prime-aged males. At Memory Care for Men, we specialize in treating patients whose prefrontal cortexes have shrunk to the size of a Cheerio.

Signs that your loved could benefit from memory care include:

• Financial irresponsibility (dropping $8000 on a new putter)

• Word loss (forgetting to say “thank you”)

• Irritability (“Stop nagging; I’ll get to it!”)

• Short-term memory impairment (“Oh, I thought you were going to do that.”)

• Confusion about time and place (“Wait, that was today?”)

• Trouble with planning (leaving for the airport half an hour before the flight leaves)

• Misplacing important items (pets, toddlers, mothers-in-law)

If you recognize any of these symptoms, we encourage you to seek help immediately. Early intervention is critical to slow progression, improve quality of life and prevent premature death when you back over him in the driveway.

Our award-winning daycare program is founded on the principle of meaningless, testosterone-fueled competition. Each patient earns points for rudimentary tasks such as starting (and putting away) the laundry, loading (and emptying) the dishwasher, and cleaning (and refilling) the litter box. We post a leader board that allows patients to obsessively track their scores, trash-talk their opponents, and smug-hug the guy who finished last because he forgot to replace the toilet paper.

Our staff maintains impossibly complicated statistics on trivial achievements and reviews them in group sessions modeled after the ESPYs. This focus on absurd metrics gives our patients a sense of accomplishment and improves their confidence.

Memory Care for Men also offers a speech therapy program. Patients practice posing questions such as:

• “How was your day?”

• “Can I get you a glass of wine?”

• “Do you need anything from the store?”

When our patients master these common courtesies, we empower them to celebrate their success with finger guns, throat- slashing gestures and crotch grabs.

Upon program completion, we hold a graduation ceremony and invite family members. As these brave men demonstrate their newly acquired memory skills and basic manners, their unbridled joy is inspiring. When a recent graduate noticed a full trash bin next to the stage and emptied it without prompting, many guests were moved to tears.

Sadly, in spite of our best efforts, male memory loss inevitably progresses. Signs that your loved one has entered the end stage of this poorly understood condition include:

• Wandering and Disorientation: finding himself at the driving range, unsure of how he got there and — if your parents are visiting — unable to find his way home.

• Rumination: insisting that he was inbounds when he caught the ball in his middle school basketball tournament. He may become agitated when you tell him you don’t care and never will.

• Difficulty Communicating: interrupting your conference call to ask where you put his wallet, then interrupting it again to tell you he found it.

• Aggression: suddenly changing lanes without signaling, then flipping off the driver behind him “because that bitch is way up my ass.”

When your loved one reaches this stage, he may no longer be safe at home. If so, we hope you’ll consider our residential program.

Our assisted living facility is modeled on a fraternity house. Our patients enjoy tossing empty beer cans on the front lawn, playing video games until three a.m. and watching porn on a big screen in the common room.

There is currently no cure for male memory loss, but we remain hopeful. In the meantime, we strive to squeeze as much cognitive power from your loved one’s teensy little brain as possible, for as long as we can.

Schedule a tour today!

Kara Teevan Boatman is a recovering economist, humor writer and novelist. Her work has appeared in Slackjaw, The Haven and now The Belladonna. Find her on Twitter @KBTeevan and Instagram @kbteevan.

Memory Care for Men was originally published in The Belladonna Comedy on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Hi Vivian,

Thanks so much for organizing our weekend getaway! I know the guys went ahead and split expenses down the middle (I don’t think Roger even looked at the breakdown!), but I wanted to note a few things.

• AirBnB: We had the smaller bedroom, and our bathroom was across the hall, unlike your en suite setup. I think a 10% ($30)discount on our share of the rental should cover the inconvenience.

• Saturday Night Dinner: Howard ordered the 2022 Caymus when I specifically recommended the 2021 Cakebread. Anyhoo, Howard’s “honest mistake” cost us an extra $10. No need to prorate the rest of the meal, since I “strongly encouraged” everyone to order the prix fixe menu. I knew you’d thank me!

• Tips: You guys are so generous (you know the pandemic is over, right?)! That’s your choice of course, but Roger and I believe servers should earn their gratuities. And was it me or did our waiter roll his eyes when I mentioned that he should have served the wine clockwise around the table? We wouldn’t have tipped more than 15% (if anything!) which amounts to roughly $25.32. And you didn’t need to apologize to him; it’s his JOB.

• Groceries: Thanks for heading to Whole Foods to buy groceries for the group. I just love how you guys treat yourselves to the finer things in life, in spite of your limited budget! I compared prices for each item on the list; turns out we would have saved $5.83 if you’d gone to Trader Joe’s as I suggested.

• Breakfast: My goodness, Howard can really plough through fresh-squeezed orange juice! ($7.22)

• Hot tub: We’re so glad you guys could relax in the Jacuzzi, especially after Howard found out he’d been laid off. You must’ve spent hours in there! I’ve checked water and electricity rates in Palm Springs, and calculated running costs for the extra time. Turns out it was only $9.74!

• Gas: Remember when you guys drove downtown by yourselves to get some “alone time?” At $4.62 a gallon and 30 mpg, your little getaway cost $2.31.

• Suntan Lotion: Until I saw you in shorts, I didn’t realize how pale the two of you are! You could burn under a full moon! Roger and I are blessed with skin that tans easily. My point is, we would have bought SPF 15 rather than 50. ($3.29)

I’ve attached the supporting spreadsheet for you to review. Bottom line is you owe us $91.40. Just goes to show how this stuff adds up!

I assume you’re okay covering the $300 airport parking fee, since you would have driven anyway.

I would say wait until the next time we see each other, but as you know, we leave for our month-long private cruise around the Marquesas Islands next week. I’d hate for you to forget, and have it turn into a “thing,” so maybe just settle up now? Venmo is fine!

What a FABULOUS weekend! Can’t wait to do it again next year! In the meantime, best of luck to Howard on the job search!

Cecilia

I’ve Calculated the Expense Breakdown From Our Couples Trip was originally published in The Haven on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.