Attn: Customer Service Dept.

Dear Sir,

I saw her when she got on. I was occupying a comfortable two or three seats near the front of the bus, enjoying the oasis of controlled cool amidst the oppressive July heat. A handful of patrons dotted the bus. I sized her up immediately, but hoped my instincts were wrong.

She sat across from me. Her clothes indicated that customary fashion inhibitions had vaporized in the summer heat. This is a curious condition that plagues the town, leading men to parade the streets in the trendy combination of light blue shorts and brown work socks up to mid-calf. This woman was not so indecently dressed, but should have taken under revision the decision to rechristen an outfit she last wore during the memorable summer of '78.

I digress. Her appearance can be overlooked in the larger scheme of things, as can the facial twitch which seems to be parceled out to every citizen over sixty in the bucolic town of Ithaca, NY. Some musty tucked-away store, whose last sale was also in the summer of 1978, must be attracting fresh geriatrics, force-feeding them a hundred cigarettes a day and passing mild electrical shocks through their bodies. I can find no other explanation for the uniformly odd antics of these people. This store must also be issuing month-long bus passes to the winners of a neverending game of bingo.

I digress again. The point, sir, is that I would not be writing this letter had she not spoken. My best speculation is that the equally eccentric, overweight and aged stranger she was perched beside was her audience. The running conversation she initiated in the direction of this man never lost steam, even momentarily, and covered a number of useful topics. The commentary, for it was more of a monologue interrupted by affirmative grunts from the poor fellow, was conducted at a volume which, had she been a schoolmistress, would have rendered superfluous the need for a PA system.

I am now extremely knowledgable in the art of freezing double strength iced tea in recycled soda bottles and estimating the quantity needed for trips of various durations. A well-made mix can last from two to three hours. Further, I am equally versed in the related field of purchasing remote-controlled toys for grandchildren at Radio Shack. In a surprise twist, the batteries needed to power these toys are no longer included but, in fact, sold separately. This policy must have been recently introduced since 1978.

In the name of all that is good and holy, please send a large shipment of your best earplugs to the enclosed address, to be paid by money order upon receipt.

Yours truly,
Keiran King