In honor of Valentine’s Day, allow me to share a letter I am sending to someone who has a very special place in my heart…
Dear Mr. Mechanical-Man,
May I call you Rudy? I hope this letter finds you feeling like a million. I have never written a fan letter before, except for the ones to Peter Falk, Stephen Colbert, and the lead singer of the Buggles, but I just had to write to you. I’m your biggest fan and I am always ready to defend you against the philistines in my pinball league who don’t appreciate your unique charm. Some of them say you can’t be real because they have seen Rudys at lots of other arcades, but I know those other Rudys are just your helpers.
I remember the first time I saw you. I was immediately intrigued by your ability to keep your eyebrows fixed in such a quirky position. I could tell you liked me, too, since your eyes followed me around the room, even when you were supposed to be asleep. It wasn’t long before you were calling me endearing pet names like “Bucko” and “Chuckie” and my heart was fluttering every time you said “Great shot!”
To other people, it sometimes looks like we get angry at each other, but you and I know it’s all meant affectionately. When you say “I’m not happy with you now,” you really mean “I am in awe of your skill.” And when I say “Damn you, Rudy, that was unacceptable! F–Aaaaaaaaaaaargh,” I really mean “Thank you for the challenge, my dear friend!”
I hope you will answer a question for me. What exactly is in the funhouse? You’re always saying “You don’t know what’s in there!”, and that’s the truth, since it seems like all I ever get to do is play on the steps outside.
I am enclosing a self-addressed, stamped envelope so that you can send back an autographed picture. Please inscribe it, “To Heather, I always save the biggest points for you! Fond regards, Rudy.”
Affectionately yours,
Heather
