I received an email from Beyoncé the other day. The subject line read, "I don't usually email you." That's for sure. I've never received an email from Beyoncé. How did she know my email address, let alone my name?
I'm some poor schlub from the San Fernando Valley whose only previous encounter with Beyoncé was watching her sing "Bootylicious" on MTV, hoping my wife wasn't offended by my buffoonish grin.
And now she's emailing me? I could've died.
She said in her email that she wanted me to "meet up" with her and Jay-Z to spend an evening with President Obama in New York City. "We want you to be there," she wrote.
Really? Nebbishy me? There must be a mistake. I don't have any star power. I'm not a musician. And I'm a terrible dancer. Maybe her email was intended for someone else.
My heart started to race. I fantasized about Beyoncé and me leaving our respective spouses and starting a life together in some ramshackle flat in Paris.
But as I continued reading her email, I realized there were strings attached. Here's what she said: "If you can pitch in $4 or whatever you can (to the Obama campaign), you'll be automatically entered to be flown out to join us." My heart sank.
This was the first time Beyoncé had ever emailed me, and she was already soliciting me for money. Way to cultivate a relationship, Beyoncé.
But there's more. She said the airfare and hotel would be taken care of, and that I could bring a guest. She then inserted a hyperlink to a donation form.
Now I really felt used. With a heavy heart, I continued to read her email. The last sentence read, "Can't wait to meet you!" And then she signed her note, "Love, B." Can you believe that? Beyoncé signed her note, "Love, B." What kind of heartless, sadistic person would lead someone on with the L-word, only to dash their dreams with a freakin' hyperlink to a donation form for Obama?
Sorry, Beyoncé, but as you said in your song, "Single Ladies," this boy would never put a ring on it, and by "it" I mean your finger.
After processing this with my therapist, I realized that Beyoncé's email wasn't the only reason for my disillusioned heart. Believe it or not, I have received dozens of personal emails from Barack and Michelle during the last several months.
For example, Barack sent me an email on June 11, 2012 with the subject line, "Meet me for dinner." He then wrote, "I hope you'll take me up on the offer," which was followed by a hyperlink to make a donation. He also said, "I've got you" and "I'm saving you a seat."
On June 21, 2012, I received an email from Michelle with the subject line, "Fly out to meet us." The first lady was inviting me to a "casual dinner," a very nice gesture, indeed. But again, the invite was followed by a hyperlink to a donation form.
I replied to an email from Barack on August 17. He was asking me for a donation and saying if he wins the election, it's because of me. So I responded, "can't we just go out for pancakes?"
He never wrote back.
On Sept. 7, 2012, I received an email from Michelle under the subject line, "Evan, you're amazing ... Barack and I felt your energy up there," which I'm assuming was the stage at the Democratic National Convention. But I wasn't at the convention, nor did I watch it on TV. I was lying in bed warding off a migraine with a bag of frozen peas draped over my forehead.
And finally, how about the email from Barack dated Sept. 17 with the subject line, "I'm saving a seat for Evan." In the email, the president said, "I want to meet you. I want to thank you in person. And I'd love to hear what's on your mind."
You can guess what happened next.
Barack wrote that if I can donate $25 or whatever I'm able to chip in, I am automatically entered to meet him for dinner. "Flight and hotel are on us. All you have to do is come and eat."
Thanks, Barack. Will Beyoncé be there?
Your friend,
Evan
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