Things have really been getting hot lately, and I don't just mean the lovely weather we've been having. Oh but it has been absolutely balmy and wonderful - I just hope it stays so nice and warm for the tailgates. They're right around the corner and it would be blasted nasty if we got a chilly rain instead of this summer warmth. I've got a lovely Lilly dress to wear with my not quite as good as Lolly hat, and it would be ashame to have to sweater it up. But the point here is that the proverbial heat has been turned up at The Weekly. I'm not sure who has turned the heat up, quite frankly it was the air conditioner running the other day. But Sue-Nancy Quigley, Mr. Petigrew's secretary, said that it has, the heat that is, been turned up and someone was really starting to sweat. Odd phrases, really when you think about it. I absolutely did not see one person at The Weekly who was sweating. And as for the heat, as I've said it became quite hot outside these past few days, but inside of the offices the air conditioner was doing quite well at keeping it comfy.
But the important point I believe worth mentioning is that things were getting quite exciting. Well you can imagine how absolutely tickled I am to learn that my column has made The Weekly quite the popular rag. Isabel says that it all has to do with endorsements, and I've apparently snagged an exclusive. Endorsement, that is. You see, it all started when I agreed to give safe keeping for Lolly Desjardin's Most Beautiful Hat entry. Apparently, Lolly felt convinced that The Burglar would make entry into her home and nick off with her Lemon Hat, and odd as it seems, felt old Burglar Man would skip right by my home. All slights aside, being the good sport that I am, I agreed and decided to reinforce the trenches, so to speak, by taking it up with The Burglar in my own manner. Straight to the point, I posted a letter from my pen to his eye in my weekly advice column. Asked the man straight out not to lift the Lemon hat of Lolly until after the tailgates. Which, by that point I'd imagine, the hat would no longer even need a space in my home.
Word got out, and spread rather quickly I might ad, that The Burglar not only read my column, but responded in quite a quick turn around. And that, as Isabel says, is quite a coo - getting an endorsement from The Burglar. Impeccable manner, he has. And that is exactly what I said to Captain Leighton as he was asking poor Mr. Petigrew the same questions, over and over. I told him, Captain Leighton that is, that I was absolutely certain The Burglar would respond to my post as he's shown himself to be quite the model citizen, if you discount the burglary of course, in most respects. I mean really, the man has shown time and again that he respects people's property and their feelings, too. Well, again keeping the discount for the habit he has of steeling things. But he always tidy's up and fixes anything he's broken, and sometimes fixes things that just need fixing. And a darn decent sort, too. Why the entire thought of giving Katerina a nice piece of jewelry, knowing she had none of her own, was just positively charming. And you know, you can't buy charm like that in a jar. Can you imagine what a decent sort he must be. And I'm not the only one that feels this way. Why just the other day, Victor McWoogle told me that if The Burglar, or Burglar Man as Victor likes to refer to him. Point is, Victor says that if Burglar Man surfaces again, or drops me another line, to mention the possibility of a golf membership at the McWoogle's club. And that would be quite a jump across a very lengthy waiting list.
Now they - the police and Mr. Petigrew and Mr. Petigrew's attorney, Stanley Miles, that is. Well they talked and talked about Amendments, more than one of them I think because they keep making The First Amendmant sound terribly important, and being confidential, coming down to the station and all sorts of things they felt strongly were my duty. I've absolutely no idea how they came to think that an Advice Columnist of my stature would ever amend her advice or consider something intended for the newspaper to be confidential. And I told them that, too, that they were missing the point. Finally, I said to Captain Leighton, after first telling him just how much I admire him and to give Rose, his wife, my best, that if he wanted my advice he was going to have to send me a letter just like everyone else.
And that really is the point here. Why I've got quite a stack of mail to answer since The Burglar wrote me. Now since I've taken up the Veronica quill, I've scarcely got more than a note a week. Not what you'd call a town in dire need of advice. But advice I gave just the same. Well you can immagine that since The Burglar has given me such a rousing endorsement, one would naturally want my advice. I've become absolutely a sought after sort for advice. More letter than I could possibly read over a cup of coffee, which is really my usual working hour. I've taken to adding a mid day snack time to go with my letter reading. And it's not just me that has become a person that uses the working term 'swamped'. Sue-Nancy Quigley, Mr. Petigrew's secretary, tells me that the advertising department is also in the swamp. Says that the phone in classified rings so much that Mrs. Petigrew has been compelled to come by in the mornings to lend a hand and ear. And apparently, Mrs. Petigrew has grown tired of coming to The Weekly since that Veronica girl has found other employment.
I said to Charlie as we were enjoying a nice, summer like evening on our porch, 'I feel quite important suddenly.' And Charlie just said to me, 'darling you're always important.' And that's a thought that no one can nick.
Oh yes, do forgive any typos, this entire idea of being swamped is exciting but does come with it's own set of issues.
Dear Veronica,
I have a secret crush on a man that I work with. His name is Harper but he is married and I don't want anyone to know, except for Harper. Can you please use your column to advice him of such,
Anticipating
Dear Laura,
I am not certain if Harper reads The Weekly, but I had the pleasure to bump into his wife, Sonya, at the Genuardi's yesterday and she says that she reads The Weekly as well as my column and she promises to show him your letter. Good luck,
Veronica
Showing posts with label jewelry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jewelry. Show all posts
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
CLASSIFIED INFORMATION
Mr. Petigrew had recently developed an odd habit of leaving the office to pace the sidewalk up and down West Avenue. He checks his reflection in the windows of shops and then darts quickly by others. Maybe he has more time now that he's not trying to find that Veronica girl a job. Wonderful really, because I think the exercise might do him a bit of good. And Veronica just seems to love her new job with Mr. Heung. But the pacing has become a bit much. If he just walked leisurely I don't think he'd call quite as much attention to himself. He has also been seen to spray some sort of aerosol on his scalp quite frequently. Sue-Nancy Quigly, Mr. Petigrew's secretary, told me that he, that is Mr. Petigrew, that he has also taken to asking her if she has noticed he had a bit more hair on his dome. She had not, and quite frankly neither did I. He remained as shiny on the top as the day I first met him. And a good thing, too, for he was also growing accustomed to saying how much he'd like to pull his own hair out. Very odd, indeed, to hope so much to grow some just so one could pull it all out again. Men can truly be difficult to understand, at times, as Isabel says "they are victims of their own desires". Now I'm not entirely certain how this pertains to Mr. Petigrew's lack of scalp follicles, but I do know that he has also become quite uncomfortable with the visits from Captain Leighton as well as Eliahas Wayne's insurance man, Mr. Kuflic. Something to do with the in's and outs of his advertising and all to do with catching The Burglar.
You see, it all has to do with my column and the letter I received from The Burglar. I was once again credited with an idea that Mr. Petigrew called a "doosy" that he just "couldn't believe". He really is quite a down to earth type fellow, always wondering what he has done to deserve all of this. And he is such a devoted newspaper man, I believe it absolutely is about time he get all of this recognition. Now when I first met Mr. Petigrew, he was dedicated to the entire Burglar issue, and now with a bit of help from me he is smack dab in the middle of it. Or, as The Daily said in a headline, "In With The Burglar". (Most unflattering picture of Mr. Petigrew that The Daily chose to run). But the point here is that I decided to ask Mr. Burglar, up front and all that, not to rummage through my home and snatch poor Lolly's tailgate hat until after the Races. And though a few of the Ladies at my Women's club called my letter 'silly', 'daft' and a few other things, apparently I'm not the only one. That is, not the only one that took to making my requests to Mr. Burglar in print. You see, I believe The Burglar to be a gentleman, and a gentleman never denies a polite request. It's become quite obvious that the man does like hats, and why wouldn't he want a hat like Lolly Desjardin's?
But the point here is that, apparently, after reading my latest column, several others decided to take out space in The Weekly with similar requests. Babson Hurley was the first. Her advertisement read: Dear Mr. Burglar, You've already been to 105 Wooded Lane. While we appreciate your courtesy and thoughtfulness in cleaning up any mess you may have caused, we do request that you not visit again unless formally invited.
Betsy Perkins ran an even nicer advertisement, saying: Dear Burglar, If you are the person responsible for bringing my cat to me, thank you ever so much. He is the best cat in the whole entire world. My husband may not think this cat is worth the golf clubs of his that you took, but I do. And, my husband did get his clubs back. We don't have much else for you, other than some coins that my husband collects which you missed. They are in the second floor study.
Victor McWoogle took out a very funny spot, saying : Alright now Burglar Man, haven't had the pleasure yet, despite all the good stuff in our house. Still, our neighbors at 114 Overlook have absolutely fabulous stuff and they are heavy sleepers.
At last count, according to Sue-Nancy Quigley, Mr. Petigrew's secretary, The Weekly had received ten advertisements and placed all of them in the front section of the paper. Now, according to Sue-Nancy, who to me seems to be a rather in-the-know type, newspapers are very keen on their advertisements. All has to do with profits, and what not. So you see, this trend I started was obviously pleasing Mr. Petigrew to the point where he believed he could actually wish for more hair. Really, any hair would be more hair for the dear man.
And the truly odd thing about this whole letter writing bit is that the police, as well as that nasty little insurance man, Mr. Kuflic, had completely forgotten about The Second Hand and were concentrating themselves on this belief that Mr. Petigrew had an "in" with The Burglar. It must be nice to realize one's dreams, as Mr. Petigrew was now doing. Although, I thought that Veronica girl was a bit cross when she said gagging is what he, Mr. Petigrew that is, that gagging is what he gets. You see, as we were buying up some more suspicious items at The Second Hand, I told her about how the police were ordering Mr. Petigrew to gag. Very archaic, I believe, and I told the man from The Daily just that when he came round to speak with me about it. I said to him, 'one does not order one to gag, and the police should stop concentrating so much on who writes who a letter and should really concentrate more on finding out who lifted the hood ornaments off of half a dozen Mercedes parked along Louella Court last week.'
But the point here really is the letter that I received from The Burglar that started all of this excitement.
Dear Veronica,
I wouldn't think of burgling your home. You've been quite kind and fair to me, I believe. I think that you're advice is very good advice and more people should read your column. They should also stop by and visit your garden, it's one of the nicest in the neighborhood. And while there, maybe think about adopting one of the stray cats you've been so good about caring for.
Best Regards,
T.B.
You see, it all has to do with my column and the letter I received from The Burglar. I was once again credited with an idea that Mr. Petigrew called a "doosy" that he just "couldn't believe". He really is quite a down to earth type fellow, always wondering what he has done to deserve all of this. And he is such a devoted newspaper man, I believe it absolutely is about time he get all of this recognition. Now when I first met Mr. Petigrew, he was dedicated to the entire Burglar issue, and now with a bit of help from me he is smack dab in the middle of it. Or, as The Daily said in a headline, "In With The Burglar". (Most unflattering picture of Mr. Petigrew that The Daily chose to run). But the point here is that I decided to ask Mr. Burglar, up front and all that, not to rummage through my home and snatch poor Lolly's tailgate hat until after the Races. And though a few of the Ladies at my Women's club called my letter 'silly', 'daft' and a few other things, apparently I'm not the only one. That is, not the only one that took to making my requests to Mr. Burglar in print. You see, I believe The Burglar to be a gentleman, and a gentleman never denies a polite request. It's become quite obvious that the man does like hats, and why wouldn't he want a hat like Lolly Desjardin's?
But the point here is that, apparently, after reading my latest column, several others decided to take out space in The Weekly with similar requests. Babson Hurley was the first. Her advertisement read: Dear Mr. Burglar, You've already been to 105 Wooded Lane. While we appreciate your courtesy and thoughtfulness in cleaning up any mess you may have caused, we do request that you not visit again unless formally invited.
Betsy Perkins ran an even nicer advertisement, saying: Dear Burglar, If you are the person responsible for bringing my cat to me, thank you ever so much. He is the best cat in the whole entire world. My husband may not think this cat is worth the golf clubs of his that you took, but I do. And, my husband did get his clubs back. We don't have much else for you, other than some coins that my husband collects which you missed. They are in the second floor study.
Victor McWoogle took out a very funny spot, saying : Alright now Burglar Man, haven't had the pleasure yet, despite all the good stuff in our house. Still, our neighbors at 114 Overlook have absolutely fabulous stuff and they are heavy sleepers.
At last count, according to Sue-Nancy Quigley, Mr. Petigrew's secretary, The Weekly had received ten advertisements and placed all of them in the front section of the paper. Now, according to Sue-Nancy, who to me seems to be a rather in-the-know type, newspapers are very keen on their advertisements. All has to do with profits, and what not. So you see, this trend I started was obviously pleasing Mr. Petigrew to the point where he believed he could actually wish for more hair. Really, any hair would be more hair for the dear man.
And the truly odd thing about this whole letter writing bit is that the police, as well as that nasty little insurance man, Mr. Kuflic, had completely forgotten about The Second Hand and were concentrating themselves on this belief that Mr. Petigrew had an "in" with The Burglar. It must be nice to realize one's dreams, as Mr. Petigrew was now doing. Although, I thought that Veronica girl was a bit cross when she said gagging is what he, Mr. Petigrew that is, that gagging is what he gets. You see, as we were buying up some more suspicious items at The Second Hand, I told her about how the police were ordering Mr. Petigrew to gag. Very archaic, I believe, and I told the man from The Daily just that when he came round to speak with me about it. I said to him, 'one does not order one to gag, and the police should stop concentrating so much on who writes who a letter and should really concentrate more on finding out who lifted the hood ornaments off of half a dozen Mercedes parked along Louella Court last week.'
But the point here really is the letter that I received from The Burglar that started all of this excitement.
Dear Veronica,
I wouldn't think of burgling your home. You've been quite kind and fair to me, I believe. I think that you're advice is very good advice and more people should read your column. They should also stop by and visit your garden, it's one of the nicest in the neighborhood. And while there, maybe think about adopting one of the stray cats you've been so good about caring for.
Best Regards,
T.B.
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