A Strongly Worded Letter to "Jonn with 2 N's" (and no H)

 

Today, I unsuspectingly opened my email only to find this charming little message. Naturally, the only logical reaction on my part was to dedicate an entire blog post to it. Now, I know this is a fashion/modeling/occasionally travel, lifestyle, etc site...but I think this is worthy of a one-time exception. 

*Disclaimer: I am not a feminist, nor do I by any means believe that all (or even most) men behave this way or should be lumped in one category. This is not a man-hater rant. This post is not to be taken too seriously and is (mostly) satirical in nature. If you take yourself - or me - too seriously, this is your warning. For those of you who have a sense of humor, read on....

*Disclaimer #2: I did not actually send this response to Jonn. This is simply meant to be a humorous hypothetical response to a funny situation. I am not in the business of creating actual enemies (just making fun of them for entertainment's sake ;)) 


Dear Jonn Frank, 

Firstly, you're spelling your first name wrong (if that is your real name, which I sincerely doubt/hope for your own sake that it is not). I don't care if you are tragically related to (or, more likely, the spawn of) Lisa Frank and the overwhelmingly nauseating amount of rainbow unicorns and baby tigers that she produced throughout her career. Nor do I care if said baby tigers overshadowed you throughout your childhood, leaving you with blinding insecurities. There is no possibly legitimate reason to spell "John" in such a manner. Glad we got that out of the way.

Before I go diving head first into this pile of word vomit that some might call an "email", I would like to point out just one more thing. I do understand that I am not an entirely hideous looking female, and that I do in fact post photos of myself regularly. So this is not the first time that a sad, desperate excuse for a person has reached out to me with less than savory intentions. An occasional DM, sure. An inappropriate photo comment here and there? Of course. But you, John with no "h" and 2 "n's", actually went out of your way to copy and paste my email address with your fat little fingers into your email app on your fancy hedge fund employee phone and wrote a solid paragraph of nothing but unintelligent blabber. I don't know whether to be impressed or genuinely terrified, but it definitely warrants further examination.

Now, let's break down your oh so appealing proposal in all it's misogynistic glory, shall we? I'm not entirely sure which part of your incredibly intricate and deep thought-forming cerebrum thought that "Booking" would be the best possible subject line to go with here, but again, I digress. Let's jump right in to your opening line, the big hook line and sinker. There are a couple of major problems with this opener, Mr. Frank. 

  1. I do not, nor have I ever, done yoga.
  2. If I were to do yoga, I would refrain from posting photos of myself doing it "online." No disrespect to all you girls who work your perfectly toned and flexible tooshies for hours on end to get that perfect namaste shot with the sun setting oh so perfectly in the background, but that's just not my game. 

So, either you are literally a delusional human being who can see things that don't exist on my Instagram page, or you have me confused with another female that you intended to so kindly proposition. Or you send these out via mass email. Come to think of it, the last option is probably actually the closest to the truth. Don't worry Jonny boy, I'm not offended. How could I expect to have a catch like you all to myself?

Moving on to your next carefully crafted sentence, which of course is not a sentence at all (didn't Lisa make you do your grammar homework, Jonn?!)....I don't think I need to say much here. After all, what girl wouldn't be wooed by a fifth grader a la AOL Instant Messenger? If "Super superrrrrrr hotttttt!" doesn't get the girl, then I sure don't know what will. Maybe another "t" at the end. Speaking of my "superrrrr hotttttt"-ness that you so luckily stumbled upon... I must admit I'm curious to know which photos exactly you are referring to. Which of the below (fully clothed) images really got you going?

Was it this one? I mean, sure, I can see how those oversized clown glasses can be hard to resist...I guess...

Was it this one? I mean, sure, I can see how those oversized clown glasses can be hard to resist...I guess...

Or perhaps this provocative shot of me in a LITERAL TRENCH COAT really made your little man parts tingle...

Or perhaps this provocative shot of me in a LITERAL TRENCH COAT really made your little man parts tingle...

Ah, this must have been the one. Everyone knows that a girl looks sexiest when she's chewing with her mouth open. 

Ah, this must have been the one. Everyone knows that a girl looks sexiest when she's chewing with her mouth open. 

Nope, that's it. I've figured it out. You have a finger fetish. Coffee fetish? i don't know, a f*****g marble-top table fetish?!

Nope, that's it. I've figured it out. You have a finger fetish. Coffee fetish? i don't know, a f*****g marble-top table fetish?!

Let me guess. I brought this upon myself. I really shouldn't post such sexually suggestive images if I don't want to be propositioned. Oh well, I guess I can understand where you're coming from, Jonn. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and keep reading. 

This next part is my personal favorite. You work at a hedge fund in midtown, you say? *gasp* I'll be right over! Talk about a pick up line! Come on bro, you and I both know that anyone who uses their occupation as a selling point is either A) lying or B) overcompensating. More likely, C) all of the above. In fact, I am 99.9% confident at this point that "Jonn Frank" is your not-so-well thought out alias for this guy. Next.

Now, I must say, your proposal of a "little fun" does seem quite innocent. Nothing crazy, you say? Just a hot massage or a lap dance? I mean obviously everyone knows that, being a female, I am genetically wired to have perfected both of those skills at a young age. Cooking, cleaning, hot massages, and lap dances. Yep, that about covers it.

Aaaaaand the kicker - "I am a good looking 34 year old. Not some old ugly weirdo." I refer you back to my previously mentioned statement regarding overcompensation. If you have to say it, it's definitely not true.

So no, Mr. Wall Street, tomorrow at 11am is unfortunately the exact time that I scheduled to have my eyes surgically removed in order to avoid ever having to read something like this again. Or a lobotomy. Whichever my yoga-teaching salary can afford.

Just kidding, we both know that women like me will always be more successful (and way less pervy) than you. It's science. You can go shave your back now. 

Sincerely, 

Not an Escort

Real time footage of my facial expression upon opening my email today. Lookin' at you, Jonn.

Real time footage of my facial expression upon opening my email today. Lookin' at you, Jonn.