mood: infuriated

Dear Donny (Can I call you Donny?)

First things first. For what happened last week, I am sorry. It was a very immature and thoughtless thing to do, and even though I was only trying to help, I should have stayed at my post. I couldn't remember if I actually apologized to you for that or not. Though probably not, because I fear you Don, in case you haven't picked up on that one yet. Fear is why I don't look you in the eye, and flinch every time I hear you say my name. And that's too bad, Don, because really, you and I are on the same side. Or were, until you managed to kill any motivation I had in doing anything nice for you. Remember the day I lost that motivation? I had everything sounding perfect, the service went off without a hitch, the worship service sounded great, and the first thing you had to say to me when I went to retrieve your microphone was a complaint. About something totally unnoticeable at that. After that, I realized that you are an impossible man to please. I mean geeze, Don, do you think you could find something nice to say now and then? It's not hard. And if it's too hard for you; if it's been too long since you've paid anyone a compliment, I'll buy you a thesaurus.

Where do you think we went wrong, Don? Do you think it might be because even after last night's service, where nothing went wrong (Except those two missed PowerPoint slides), you were a total jerk to me? You used the same condescending, rude tone you use when addressing anyone you feel is beneath you, as though I were a small booger you had just picked and needed to flick away without anyone noticing. Or maybe it's the fact that you're nice to just about everyone else save the people who sacrifice their time, and rather large chunks of sleep to render a service to you. Yup Don, that kind of attitude is sure to bring the volunteers back. (And remember: I don't get paid. Not one damn cent.)

We really should have coffee sometime, Don, and talk these things over - maybe have some espresso? Believe me, I'm really close to just walking out on you. And the only person keeping me there is Rick. You may have noticed he, unlike you, Don, doesn't treat me as a sub-human scumbag. Hypocrite.

Lovingly yours, Sparky