Jon writes: I love my wife Tina’s delicious vinaigrette. I use a lot, enough to get all my greens good and juicy. When the salad is gone, a pool of dressing remains. So I raise my plate to my lips like a giant mug and drink. I do this out of sight in the kitchen, but Tina wants me to quit altogether.
Can you rent an apartment in town where you can do this in secret? Because you are really grossing me out. From your juicy greens to your swamp pool of dressing, and on through your egregiously described lips, you’ve drawn a real queasy picture that is hard to escape. And I don’t even live with you, never mind kiss you. So imagine how Tina feels when you’re off slurping in the kitchen? I want you to enjoy your life, but you have to start sopping that stuff up with bread, or otherwise be much more discreet, starting with: Don’t write me letters about it.