Dear Abby
by
Earl H. Roberts

Dear Abby: 

Here's the problem: I live just between the phone that never rings and Mr. Occupant's mail box. Avon Called once, then never rang my bell again. Abby, I have tried everything, church, lonely hearts, even the Personals Column that promises someone for everything. Even there, I ended up with nothing. They charged me $50 to start, but they guaranteed to give me 12 pen pals each week until I found one I liked.

After 3 months they sent me a check for $1,000 "We have lost a dozen customers every week since you joined. If you'll just sign this statement that you never heard of us, this is your money."

Undaunted, I went to their biggest competitor. But, when I put in my application at the Lonely Hearts of Little Rock Club they dropped it in the waste basket by mistake. They did the same thing three more times, right in front of my back. Finally, I complained. The President of the club said: "Practice makes perfect."

My Bishop caught me moping and asked what the problem was. Help at Last! I was so ecstatic that I dashed off the highlights in a 4,262 word letter. The man had the nerve to laugh right in my face as he skimmed it.

He SKIMMED it, Abby. SKIMMED! Every time he looked up he would bust out laughing again, and apologize. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just can't help laughing, your problems are SO funny!"

Abby, I'm desperate. I'm doing something wrong and I just don't have a clue what it is. If you can't help me would you please pack this letter up and send it on to Ann, you know how much smarter she is than you are.

Sincerely Yours

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