The BetsyG-Spot

I don’t have a post for today.

I thought I did, but when I went to do a final edit on it tonight—after two and a half hours in temple, several hours of face-stuffing, and a couple of glasses of wine—I realized I could not get it into the shape I want it and feel confident about posting it in time. Anything else I would write starting at 9 p.m. would not be worth reading (as you can see). So I apologize, but I will have what I hope is a strong post next Wednesday, and do promise to resume posts on schedule.

I offer you this peculiar story, though, for your amusement.

I received this postcard in the mail. It had no message, did not include my name, and had my address hand printed in what I would consider a ransom-style script. (I’ve blacked out the information to protect my privacy.)

I turned it over to see what it was about. This was the front:

In case you can’t read the bottom, it says, “Don’t blame your body; blame your bra.” It directs you to search on youtube for a particular term, which leads to a video that tells you about a brand of bra and how they are personally fitted for women with problem chests.

Where the heck did this thing come from? Who sent it to me with such peculiar handwriting? The zip code was also wrong, so it seems to rule out a warehouse of people addressing them from a list. Why wasn’t my name, or even “Resident” written on it? Why didn’t my neighbor get one? Was someone at the store and were they asked for a referral and did they think of me?? Did someone see me jogging by one day and say to themselves, “I don’t know who she is, but she really could use a better bra.” (It’s true.)

Was this an anonymous hit? It seems to be from a person and to me.

If you’ve gotten this postcard, let me know. Very curious, though honestly I do have a guess based on certain clues left on the postcard, even if I can’t quite imagine how this postcard would have gotten into that person’s hands. We shall see.