Dear Washer Sock Thief,
I’m writing to you today because, quite frankly, I’ve had enough.
For years, you’ve been getting away with your little laundry room crime spree, and I think it’s about time somebody held you accountable.
I know you’re in there. I don’t know where in there, but you’re in there.
I put two socks in the washing machine. Two perfectly good, matching socks. I watched them go in together. And somehow, by the time the laundry is finished, only one has survived.
What are you doing with them?
Are you building a tiny sock mansion? Running an underground sock market? Do you have a collection somewhere, organized by color and fabric? Are you specifically targeting my favorite pairs, or is that just a fun little bonus for you?
And another thing. Why do you never take the socks with holes in them? Those apparently get to live long, fulfilling lives. But the one pair I actually like? Gone. Never to be seen again.
At this point, I don’t even want the socks back. I just want answers.
Actually, that’s a lie. I want my socks back, too.
You have seven business days to return the missing socks, preferably washed, folded, and reunited with their rightful partners. Failure to comply will result in a strongly worded follow-up letter and absolutely no other consequences, because I still have no idea where you live.
Sincerely,
A Woman Who Is Tired of Owning Single Socks
