To Whom it May Concern,

It is six o’clock in the afternoon. I’m home, alone, exhausted after a long and difficult and hot and sticky day outside.

You may think this is ridiculous. At this point I don’t give a shit. I’ve had it today. Nothing works, I’m sick of being made fun of and taken advantage of. So this is my claim for justice.

Your stupid cucumber peeler doesn’t work. It doesn’t peel. Take it back, I’m paying for the package in the mail, and I don’t want another peeler. Just keep it, I want it to go back to where it came from , where it will never see the sun shine again.

If I wanted to cut my wrists just now, guess what, I could not. Because your stupid cucumber peeler is useless.

Sincerely,
Ruth Novachik

Dear Ruth,

On behalf of “Cute Little Utensils”, please accept my apologies. Under the US safety standards and by law we are obliged to comply to a list of safety rules, among which the level of sharpness of our cutting utensils. I fear that Israeli cucumbers may be a little thicker than our standard American greens, and so our product is not adapted to your current needs.

Although I realize you do not wish to hear or know about us again, please, as a sign of our appreciation to you, accept this melon baller. I am sure, given this hot season it will come in handy.

On a more personal note, I believe it is a safer utensil, and I am more reassured, as the prospect of you harming yourself with our cucumber peeler is too heartbreaking a thought to bear.

Sincerely,
Pedro Gomez
Customer Support

Dear Mr Gomez,

Are you making fun of me? If you are, I will demand this letter be addressed to your superior, and that action be taken. How dare you?

Ruth

Dear Ms Novichik,

I would not dream of making fun of you. How could I?

Please, if I have said anything to offend you, forgive me. I sent you the melon baller as a personal initiative, please do not think it was a joke, or a sarcastic gesture of the company.

I thought it would make your day sweeter. I will, nonetheless transmit your letter to my superior. I hate this job anyways, and I fear I am terrible at it.

I do, sincerely hope that this letter finds you well. I was saddened by your sadness.

Sincerely,

Pedro

Dear Pedro,

Please don’t transmit my letter. Please allow me to apologize. I’ve never quite received a customer support like yours.

You are very kind to have sent me the baller. I never buy melon, and ever since, I decided to get some at the store downstairs. A whole melon is too big for me alone, so I decided to scoop it all up and go offer some to my neighbors. It tastes so much better in those little round balls! My neighbors were delighted as well.

Times here have not been easy. War broke out again, and everyone is nervous. I have been on edge lately, hence my aggressive letters. I am truly sorry.

Your melon baller was a beautiful gift. I hope you don’t lose your job on my account. I would be devastated.

Ruth

Dear Ruth,

It’s ok. I did not yet transmit your letter. We are requested to file a request to speak to our superior first, and my request is still in process.

I think I am going to quit. This job is too full of sadness and I am struggling with it. I cannot be myself and I am running out of melon ballers.

I can’t possibly imagine what war is like. You sound lovely. How old are you? Loneliness is unfair no matter what. Please don’t be lonely. Here, please accept this garlic crusher as a token of friendship.

Yours,
Pedro

Dear Pedro,

The garlic crusher you sent was beautiful. I decided to make some Con Olio pasta. I bought fresh garlic at the marketplace, and this special legendary local olive oil that an old lady sells downtown. I invited my neighbors over and we ate like horses and drank wine. It was amazing. To think that I was suffering over a cucumber, when all along I should have just been eating pasta…

May I ask you, Pedro, do you correspond this way with every person that writes to you? I am 27.

Yours,
Ruth

Dear Ruth,

You have made me want to eat pasta! If my neighbor wasn’t the old and smelly Mr Robertson I would invite him over for some. I actually don’t mind the fact that he is smelly as much as the fact that he is bitter and mean…on second thought, maybe I should invite him. The garlic and olive oil will drown the smell of anger.

I do not write to my other customers like I have written to you. I was worried when I read your letter, that was all. Now I am curious, what do you like, Ruth? What other utensils can I send you? What is it like where you live?

Yours,
Pedro

Dear Pedro,

Sometimes I feel like this is the edge of the world. Like if I let myself go, I would free fall into the open space. That’s what it’s like to live here.

Do you live alone? What will you do if you quit your job?

I have always wanted to see New York. I imagine it to be the middle, the center. The opposite of this life, where I hang on the edge.

Tell me about it. Tell me about New York.

Yours,
Ruth

Dear Ruth,

I think I should go see you. I quit my job. Your place sounds like the perfect place for me to be…the edge! The edge!

The center of the world is boring. Once you get there, where do you go? People scream at each other here too, you know. You may not see it, but they do. They want to stand in that one, middle white circle on the ground.

I wonder what you look like. Are you tall? Petite? What is the color of your eyes? I think I should go and see. And I can bring all kinds of utensils for the kitchen.

Yours,
Pedro

Dear Ruth,

It has been a while since I last wrote to you, and I haven’t heard back from you. Are you ok? I hope I did not frighten you with my wish to go visit you.

People nowadays get easily scared, and I do understand why. I can promise you I would not do anything to hurt you. I am sorry if I frightened you.

I quit my job. I miss you and I hope you are ok.

Yours,
Pedro

Dear Pedro,

Here is your ticket to the edge of the world. Bring a cheese grater, I’m cooking.

Love,
Ruth

Ella Fuksbrauner is a poet and writer living in Tel Aviv, Israel.