Somewhere in California a brewery's softball team is missing a man. A man with an email address similar to mine it seems. For the last month or so I've been included in emails alerting the team of when and where practice is and/or congratulating us on a good win or hard-fought loss (I think "we" are 2-2 on the season). At first, I assumed that the mistake would be discovered. Someone would go up to "Nearly Me" at work and ask why the hell he wasn't at practice. He would ask, "What practice?", a mini-sitcom would play out, Nearly Me's address would be corrected and that would be that. But that hasn't happened. So I took matters into my own hands today. I responded (to all) to this afternoon's email regarding Tuesday's practice at Dorsay Park with the following:
It is with a heavy heart that I must announce that I am quitting the team effective immediately. My conduct at last week's game brought embarrassment both to me personally and, what's worse, to our entire organization. I never should have had those last 6 beers. I am sorry to you all, and especially to Nancy, who I guess you all now know I have a crush on. I hope you will forgive me. I hope I forgive myself someday. You will not be seeing me around work for a while. I am entering treatment. Indeed this may well be good-bye as a brewery probably isn't the best place for a guy like me to work.