An Open Letter to Don Draper

Dear Don Draper,

Hi. So, you're not a real person, but I feel like I know you (intimately) after watching hundreds of hours of you on television. I just wanted to say, I think I am in love with you.



I love your binge drinking. I also love that you drive your Cadillac with a high ball glass in one hand. Sure, that might actually be a crime...but I really do not care. You pull up in that car sans seat-belts, and you are so hammered that you are throwing your high-ball glasses half filled with whiskey out the window, and you say, "Get in now," I would absolutely do it in a heartbeat. Who am I kidding -- you show up with a plane, and you say, "I have no idea how to fly this plane, I have been drinking for 12 hours, I am on some serious barbiturates, I am illiterate and cannot read, and I have a sneaking suspicion this plane does not have wings, will you get in?" and I would unquestionably jump in.

I also love they way you put people in their place. Remember that time Pegs came into your office crying in gender inequality in the workplace and demanding to be paid the same as a man? After you read her the riot act, I thought to myself, "yeah that peggy had it coming to her. She has a job, now she's asking for a raise? Who does she think this is?? Don Draper is not made of money. Don Draper is made of scotch, and cigarette smoke, and sex appeal." If I were ever your secretary, I would purposefully make mistakes so you would yell at me. And being a secretary at this point in my education (2 yrs law school) in this economy is not beyond the range of possibilities. Relatedly...Don, is Sterling Cooper hiring? I might be interested in a position.

I love the way you ask a question without really asking a question, ie - "Have coffee with me" or "Come to bed with me." This is exactly the sort of man I need in my life - someone to order me around. Left to my own devices and decisions, I would spend every night eating a lean cuisine, watching "The Biggest Loser," crying because someone told a sad story, and looking at pictures of cute babies. I need a Don Draper to step in and say to me, "Leave your apartment. Now." or, "Stop eating yoforia. Now." or, "Stop watching Colin Firth movies. Now."

I don't know the proper protocol for ending a love letter published on the internet to a fictional television character...so, I guess I'll just trail off in ellipses....

Lil Layne.