DEAR ABBY

A private home

Santa Monica, CA

October 28, 2016

Photo credit: Dear Abby

Dear Abby,

I’ve never written to you before, but every Halloween I am reminded of the big surprise I got a couple of years ago. I’m hoping you’ll be able to relate to my story.

I was at a phenomenal private Halloween party in Santa Monica. The house was completely decorated inside and out. There was an enormous dragon that exhaled smoke towering over the front door, goblins everywhere and the bathrooms were even stocked with orange toilet paper. Orange toilet paper? I'd never seen that before.

My friend and I were sitting at a tall table with his funny friend, comedian Wendy Liebman. He had just finished telling her about My Celebrity Photo Album and she wanted to participate however, while she was taking my picture she was distracted by a friend she saw over my shoulder. It was you!

Wendy said, “Oh, there’s Dear Abby!” “She has to take my picture!” I quickly responded.

I was thrilled by the surprise of an unexpected entry, but in my excitement, I accidentally knocked a little party pumpkin off the table and onto the floor. I got out of my chair to pick it up and that’s when you came over.

I’m not sure if you noticed, Abby, but as you were saying your hellos to the group, I was under the table rescuing the ball of orange glitter. When I stood up I had to scoot some ceramic skulls out of the way to clear a space for the runaway squash, and while I was doing that I guess Wendy told you about my idea.

Does any of this sound familiar?

Once I finally turned my attention to the group you said, “I already know what I want to do.” I was a little caught off guard so I asked, “Wendy told you I have a Celebrity Photo Album?” “Yes,” you said, “and I already know what I want.” It was funny because we hadn’t even been introduced yet. I was excited to see what you had in mind, so I unlocked my phone and handed it over.

That’s when you said, “If you could just…you know…” and you pinched your elbows together. Remember? The camera was pointed right at my cleavage so I knew what you meant. I brought my arms together for a better view. “Yeah, like that,” you said, then you snapped this picture.

Before you handed the camera back, you checked the viewfinder and seemed pretty happy with your work. It’s not normally my style to be so gratuitous, but when I saw this I said, “I love it!” Then I explained, “A few male celebrities have clearly wanted to take this picture but walking the line between what they want and what is socially acceptable, they haven’t asked. But you just went for it." You laughed a knowing laugh, and without your input on the dynamics between men and women, I got your message loud and clear. Baby—If you’ve got it, flaunt it.

Some girls might have been offended by your directness and would be writing you for a different reason, but whenever I think of this it makes me laugh.

Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that you, Dear Abby, would be responsible for the raciest picture in my collection, though here we are. It was great meeting you and thanks for the photo. If my bosom becomes an internet sensation, I'll have you to thank.

Signed,

Hey, My Eyes Are Up Here