A Letter To Beca

Dear Beca,

Please don’t hurt me. I’m just a friendly Canadian who drinks maple syrup from the bottle with a straw (because I’m classy) and walks by Nutella jars in grocery stores without buying one. I come in peace. I don’t want to leave in pieces.

Ever since I announced that I would be writing letters to people, you have been the most – how should I put this – vocal, about it. 

Let me remind you of some of the things you’ve said to me, shall I? Don’t worry, I won’t provide context! It’s more fun without context.

First off, you told me you love me as much as you love hugging porcupines. Despite the fact that I take that as a compliment, I know you meant it as an insult. 

That hurts. Some would say it hurts like a hug from a porcupine.

You mentioned at one point you would have to fly to Canada just to punch me in the face. 

That’s just barbaric. At least stomp on my feet first and then catch me with an upper cut. 

You said you were worried for my soul and suggested I might be an alien, or a serial killer. You know, one of the two.

I am a cereal killer, though. I use milk to drown them in…

This is getting too dark.

Lastly, there was that time where you told me you’d bring me back from the dead just so you could…nevermind. I won’t mention that one in its entirety. Too dark, again.

Again, I refuse to provide context because it would ruin the point I’m trying to make. 

Beca, why are you so mean to me?

Is this why you’re a cycler? You plan on attacking me some day and want to get away from the crime scene in hurry?

Well, I’ll have you know, they don’t call me “Quick Feet Pete” for nothing! Actually, no one calls me that. My name isn’t Pete. 

My nickname is actually “Paul The Pedaller”. PTP for short. 

In all seriousness, I don’t take your threats seriously. Should I? Let me know if I should so I can order pizza and Chinese food to keep me company as I hide out in my igloo.

Darn it! Now you know where I’m hiding.

I know your threats aren’t serious. We’re friends. Friends joke around. Right? RIGHT, BECA? FRIENDS JOKE AROUND?

Reassure me at any point. 

Let’s move on. 

It brings me great joy whenever you find out something about me that just shocks you to the core. Like that time you screamed at your computer screen and had to explain yourself to your parents in the other room. 

Let me just get everything out of the way in one fell swoop.

I’ve never had chocolate milk, Nutella, tacos, burritos, two wraps, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, or alcohol. But my favourite pasta is rigatoni alla vodka. Does that count for anything?

Oh, while I’m at it, I should mention I haven’t been on a bike in over half my life. RIP PTP.

I’ll give you a minute to recover because, surely, you’ve fallen on the floor by now. 

I’ve never tried a food for the first time and said to myself, “This is better than I expected it would be.” I’m pretty good at looking at food and knowing if I’ll like it or not. And you may say, “Paul, aren’t you curious?” No. I’m not. 

I also can’t swim, even though I took lessons when I was a kid. Though if you dropped me in the shallow end of a pool and told me to swim and gave me incentive, I’d probably end up doing it, somehow. I watched the Olympics this summer. I know the general technique. 

A while ago, you told me to practise swimming in my bathtub using floaties. You also told me to take pictures and blog about it. Since then, I’ve had three lessons in the bathtub.

Got a concussion every time. Why? Because I look like a fish out of water when thrown into a bathtub full of water and told to swim. It’s also too small.

Enough about me, let’s talk about you. You believe that unicorns, mermaids, and Wonder Woman are all real things, yet claim that I am insane. That’s fine. I can take it. My big boys pants are pulled up. 

And who knows, maybe you’re right. Maybe unicorns are real. Maybe mermaids do live in the water. And maybe, just maybe, Wonder Woman exists on a day of the year that isn’t Halloween. 

I don’t know much about Wonder Woman. I don’t keep up with comics or movies that come out after 2005. 

From the sounds of it, she sounds like she’s always deep in thought. Someone who is always looking up at the sky. Is she related to Wonder Bread at all? I know him. Maybe it’s a distant cousin? Second uncle? Third nephew?

You asked me if unicorns and mermaids like tacos. The answer is “hell no”. They don’t. Unicorns like corn, grass, french toast, and only the middle of pickles – they cut off the top and bottom with their horn.

On the other fin, mermaids like to eat scrambled eggs, breadsticks, Glen & Larry’s Ice Cream, and Flintstone vitamins. Sometimes, they will splurge and have a grilled cheese. 

But no tacos for either of them! They hate them. Trust me. Would I lie to you about the dietary needs of unicorns and mermaids. NO! No. I. Would. Not. 

If I could be serious for a minute, I’d like to say something.

Cheese and crackers is one of my all-time favourite snacks. I would make mini sandwiches with them in kindergarten at snack time.

That’s it. That was my serious comment!

Fine, I’ll say more. 

I still remember one of the first posts I read on your blog last year. It might have been the first post I ever read of yours. It was about you riding your bike in a race (event?) that was over 100 miles long. And as you approached the finish line, you were exhausted, cold, and wet from the rain. 

I remember you saying that a bunch of other cyclists were quitting and you wondered how they could go so far just to give up. You didn’t quit; you kept going and crossed the finish. 

It was a really long post, maybe 8000 words, but I read it all and was captivated by your determination and perseverance. I know I wouldn’t be able to get through that race, at least not in one piece.

I’d have to be put back together at the finish line like Mr. Potato Head. I’ve always likened myself to Mr. Potato Head. Maybe this is why. 

Since that post, I’m glad that we’ve become blog buddies. I think the official term might be “frenemies”? 

It’s always a joy for me to read about what superhuman feat you are accomplishing next. You’re an inspiration. I also enjoy receiving comments from you that I can only classify as, “Beca is losing her mind and wants to unleash her wrath on me in the form of emojis, but can’t”.

Pretty accurate? 

All this being said, I want to thank you for being a friend and for only joking about causing me harm.

You’re joking, right? Answer me!

Without Nutella,

Paul The Pedaller

P.S. Bucky says hi.