Dear Occupants of 55-D,
I would just like to let you know that a few nights ago, while walking my dog, I ate one of your azaleas. I had just had a few glasses of wine, a lovely 2002 Napa Valley Cabernet, and I noticed how much more beautiful your azaleas were compared to the others in the neighborhood. Most of the tenants’ bushes have a few big dark-purple flowers, but yours were covered in small, bite-sized, lightly colored blossoms that looked orange in the moonlight. I plucked one flower and carried it with me for a few feet, then felt guilty for stealing the wonderful gift the management gave you, obviously to make up for the fact that your apartment has the worst location in the complex, right in the middle of Dog Shit Island. My guilt caused me to panic, and I realized I needed to get rid of the evidence, so, naturally, I ate your azalea. The petals felt so delicate on my tongue, and when I bit down, it tasted like grass and citrus. It seems fair to let you come eat one of my azaleas. I am in 63-D, if you are interested. I am sorry for consuming your foliage, and will try not to do so in the future.
Editor’s Note: Azaleas are pretty but poisonous. Do not try this at home.