Granted, I am the inquisitive sort by nature, but even if I wasn’t there are some things I just have to ask you:
Why do you insist on talking on your cell phone while standing in your front yard? And why must you do it shirtless?
Do shirts interfere with your phone’s reception? If so, may I inquire as to what brand you wear? Perhaps you should look into a different brand. I’ve heard good things about Dockers, but I have to imagine any cotton-blend shirt will suffice.
Does the person or persons you talk to on your phone know you are talking to them, shirtless, in your front yard? Are they, too, shirtless in their front yards? Are all of you part of some kind of organization that requires its members to call one another, shirtless, with women and children around? And if so, may I ask the point of such an organization?
What do you talk about while standing shirtless in your front yard? Do you talk about art? The weather? The high cost of cotton-blend shirts?
Do you come from a family who talks on the phone in their front yards? Is this a habit that is passed down from generation to generation? Am I to assume your great-great-great grandfather, since he lived in a time before phones, would stand shirtless in his yard while tying tiny messages to the feet of carrier pigeons?
Do the approximately two-dozen tattoos you have on your torso factor into your decision to be shirtless? Do they help your phone’s reception, or are they merely devices meant to scare away inquisitive neighbors who might inquire about your shirtless conversations for the entire neighborhood to witness against their will?
Because, if it’s the latter, you don’t know me very well. A myriad of tattoos will not prevent me from stopping in front of your house, rolling down my car window, and shouting in your general direction:
“Jeff Foxworthy called. He wants his ‘you might be a redneck’ joke back.”
What am I saying? Of course you don’t know me very well. We’re neighbors, not friends or acquaintances. And, clearly, that is likely for the best. You look like a man who puts little importance on personal hygeine. I, on the other hand, am a person who puts high importance on avoiding people who smell like an unholy mixture of death, tobacco, dog hair and Doritos.
My apologies. I seem to have gotten off track. The purpose of this letter was not to agitate, but to get inside the head of an inexplicably-shirtless man who insists upon carrying on phone conversations while standing in the middle of his front yard.
Before ending my letter, I would be remiss if I did not compliment, congratulate and enthusiastically thank you for your decision to wear pants. I think I speak for everyone with the ability to see that you wearing pants is a very good thing. Please continue to do so.
That Guy Who Keeps Telling You To Put On A Shirt