An open letter to James

Dear James Garrett,
May I call you Jim? Sometimes when you order things, you use Jim. Other times, you use James. However, at all times, you seem to use my e-mail address. Now, Jim, you wouldn't think it would be that hard to remember your own e-mail address. I, for one, have had the jgarrett[at]gmail[dot]com address for a few years, and I haven't messed it up yet. You, however, have used it to order a puffy vest from L.L.Bean. Also, you ordered something from Targus and want to know why you haven't received it when you paid for overnight shipping. Perhaps you haven't received it yet because you're a wee bit forgetful, Jim? Like you've forgotten your own e-mail address? Today was the last straw. I received your confirmation for an Alamo car rental, Jim. And they say that you need this confirmation number to pick it up. But I can't give it to you, Jim. I can't. Because the only e-mail address I have for you is my own.

I hope you find this letter, Jim. And your actual e-mail address.

Sincerely,
Me