Dear Charles,

A mutual acquaintance of ours told me that you would really enjoy reading The Tub. Considering I ask Verizon customer service people and random Uber drivers to check out the site, you can imagine I’d be happy to hear about a potential fan. He set us up, and told me that you were going to friend request me on Facebook.

Somehow your request got put into the Facebook bin of forgotten souls and I never saw it. Maybe I did see it at some point, but when you don’t know a Charles in real life, and then see a friend-request from a dude, it’s usually bad news. 9.5 out of 10 men who request me on Facebook are people in recovery who could really use a soak. These people aren’t my favorite people to be friends with. Their Facebook feeds read as a vivid description of their unmanageable lives (“I lost my phone, please send me your contacts”). Sometimes they start to get political too after they pay taxes for the first time in their lives.

But you were different, Charles. I lost you and I hope I have found you. Will this all turn out well where we become best friends?

Probably definitely, yes.

I trust our mutual friend and trust that he saw something in you. I finally accepted your friend request after I don’t know how long. Sometimes I purposely don’t accept requests for some of the aforementioned reasons. But this wasn’t the case with you. You deserved better.

I creeped your Facebook page in the most heterosexual way possible and came across a video of you playing a guitar. Much like the drug addict friend requests, I had my doubts. But I clicked on that video and you had the voice of a 1960s angel. I’m not entirely sure what I mean by that, but you sounded good and maybe you could give me voice lessons.

I actually don’t think I’m ready for that quite yet but I hope this blog message can mend the rift that I caused. If you don’t like the blog, or the podcast, then just unfriend me and go back to the land of the lost requests. Again, I hope this message and this Sara Bareilles video finds you well.