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Recently I received a package of old letters from a dear friend who lives in my home town. She was sort of a mentor to me when I was a teenager and always a really wonderful friend. I wrote her a few letters during Air Force basic training and during the first year when I was stationed in Montana. Most of the letters were just silly stuff about what I was up to. There was however one letter that she saved, and filed under "Erin's Performance Piece". I barely recall writing it... it was nearly 10 years ago after all... But I thought you all might get a kick out of it. Keep in mind that I was 18, bored, and possibly drunk while writing this....

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Dearest Carol,


I’m sorry I haven’t written in so long but unfortunately I have been in dire circumstances which have prevented me from corresponding. Fortunately, I can tell you about them if you promise to burn this letter after you’ve finished reading it.


Anyways, about 2 months ago, I was chosen for a high profile public appearances job for our overseas correspondents. A week after being chosen, I was whisked away in the black of night under a cloak of secrecy. I was taken to a small room and informed that because of my impeccable sense of fashion and natural charms, I had been chose to deliver a top secret map that had been placed on a tiny micro chip.


I instantly agreed (me being up for adventure and a chance to get out of Great Falls), and was expediently sworn in to a secret government agency called the S.F.U.A (Sophisticated Female Undercover Agents). I was outfitted with all the latest laser weaponry, a bullet proof red leather bodysuit and a matching Vespa scooter. Once my intense training period was over (only a couple of hours, mainly about how to walk without squeaking in my bodysuit) I was sent aboard the X-33 Space Shuttle and arrived in Bahrain, Saudi Arabia about 15 minutes later (long enough for my nails to dry). With the micro-chip hidden deep inside my sinus cavities, I embarked on a dangerous journey through the Arabian underworld.

* intermission *


My first contact was a Mr. Joe Camel of Camel, Camel, & Emu Industries. He was devastatingly handsome, suave, debonair, and very, very, very dangerous. I was supposed to pose as a food taster but when he laid eyes on me, he knew that this bleached blond was no ordinary Harem girl ( I knew I should have worn a wig!). He allowed me to stay, but I was under close scrutiny. One night, as I was tasting all the delicacies, he started questioning me about me. In flawless Arabic, I told him my life story in an operetta I had written the night before. He was so moved, he had to retire for the evening. During all the fuss and bustle over his condition, I was able to slip away and peek into His files. I stole a list of Arabic spies that was much needed by the S.F.U.A. Unfortunately, the list was very long and I had nowhere to hide it. So, I rewrote it in Chinese on my underwear. (I had to write very small, you know we have to wear thongs with our bodysuits otherwise you get WICKED panty lines)

As I snuck away from the Camel estate, I was captured by 3 thugs from that had been sent by the S.F.U.A.’s arch enemies, the D.M.U.A. (Debonair Male Undercover Agents) who were jealous of out inexplicable abilities in elusive government projects. I was taken to the Gulf and thrown in to sleep with the fishes. Luckily, I had two Olympic gold medals in Long Distance Swimming, so I swam back to Washington D.C. for a new body suit and to get my nails done. I was immediately sent back to Saudi Arabia to finish the job.


* intermission *

My second contact was the Sultan of New Delhi. He was one of the most powerful men in the world (He has Bill Gates eating out of his hand). I was supposed to put a big in his phone, so… I posed as Tonya Harding. I dazzled him by rollerblading into his court in a sequin bathing suit and finished up with an outstanding comedy routine (did you hear the one about Bill Clinton and the bridge he built between the generations? *crickets chirping* Well, HE though it was funny!) Anyway, I was immediately hired as his court jester which made it easy for me to plant the bug on the phone. Unfortunately, the micro-chip was starting to irritate my sinuses, so I left New Delhi and hurried on to Reykjavik to deliver it.

One my way to Reykjavik, I was captured by the militant wing of M.A.R.L (Mothers Against Red Leather) who were also in cahoots with the lord of the Underworld, Jim Bakker and his trusty sidekick, Tammy Faye. I was duct taped to a particle board coffee table and subjected to the horrors of torture (Tammy Faye gave me a makeover). Finally after hours of rubbing my nose with feathers, I sneezed. Luckily, I was able to combine it with a cough, so I swallowed the micro chip. Then they forced me to drink Wendy’s Frosties, Bean Dip, Bananas and Prune Juice. When I thought I could take no more, my good friend Shirley Temple made a daring rescue and we narrowly escaped. We proceeded to the Yangtze River and were greeted by out fellow S.F.U.A.’s. We all traveled back to Reykjavik where I went 8 hours of surgery to remove the micro-chip from my lower intestine. (They also found my allowance from the 2nd grade and my lucky guitar pick!) I the delivered my spy list undies to the BOSS of the world, Mr……

Oh my it’s getting late, I must go. Anyway, I hope you understand how difficult it was for me to write. Still, I guess I could have sent you a postcard from “Bakker Land” (the Arabian version of Disneyland with even more money laundering and fake eyelashes than the real one!). I miss you and I hope to see you and everyone else if I come home for Christmas.

Love,
S.F.U.A. Basey

p.s. THIS LETTER WILL SELF-DESTRUCT IN 10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1! 1! 1!1! Damn, this thing must be broken…Well, just burn it then….

Love,
~erin