A Hint of the Real

Dear Advertising Man:

Thanks for doing your best to ensure there is no inch of my body or one tiny part of my life that I don't want to improve - I couldn't possibly have made this far without you.

Thanks for selling me The Hope: hope in a bottle for the makeup, creams, bath oils, lotions, and pills; hope in a yard of satin with underwire so I won't be ashamed of my lack of cleavage and hope in those stretch jeans so I look like I have a springy backside; hope that my choice of car, stereo, hair color, whiskey, bath towels, shoes and spatula will net me everything you've promised.

Ad Man, I believed your promises from the beginning - I believed with all my heart every single word you ever said, and if you weren't all serious about what you said, well, this time I'll forgive you. But only this time...

Because seriously, you've made some insane claims over the years. It's about time that you made good on at least a few of them - I'm not asking for all your promises to suddenly become realized, but I've got to admit I'm losing my patience here - I need something to go on.

A person can only go so long spending and spending and spending before they see some kind of return.

I'm not expecting much but the high you promised was a lot better than the high I got.

Look, I'm not addicted or anything like that - I can stop whenever I want. I'm completely in control. If I don't get my fix I don't get the shakes - well, I haven't yet. I've been strong in the past, haven't I? Once I cut you off man, and didn't show up to buy any of the shit you sell.

But you have what I need, and I can't help coming around to see what you have. Because maybe this time it will do the trick, eh? Everybody's gotta live, right?

Just don't be a total prick and try to come through next time with a hint of the real -

With love and confliction,
American Women