Never forget the little people.
DEAR JERKASS: In the summer of 1995, I was a 12-year-old girl living in a motel in a suburb of Cleveland with my mother, older brother and younger sister. We were poor and very hungry.
My mother led my younger sister and me to a doughnut shop for our only meal of the day. After waiting for everyone to leave, my mother approached the young woman behind the counter and asked to buy some doughnuts with our foreign coins. It was the only money we had.
Instead of turning us away, she told my mother: "We're allowed to give away a certain number of free doughnuts every day. Just tell me what you want." (I don't know if this was true.) It was because of her kindness that my family ate that day.
If that kind woman is reading this, I want to say: "Thank you. You made the hunger go away for just a little bit, so a mother and her children could go a day without pain. You remain forever in a little girl's heart." -- URSALA IN MESSINA, ITALY
DEAR VILLAIN FROM THE LITTLE MERMAID,
You know they have this funny little search tool called "the internet", where you could find out where that doughnut shop was, who the owner was, and possibly even who was working the day in question. You could have done this and gotten answers in the time it took you to write and then wait for a response to this letter.
If you were 12 in '95, that makes you 31. I am older than you and I figured this shit out. It isn't magic.
There are little things in this story that make me think it is bullshit. How in the hell were you in a motel with only foreign money? The motel wouldn't have exchanged the money for you or accepted it. How did you get to the hotel? Or even into the country? If you were on vacation, your mother planned it very poorly.
If you are from Messina, AND you were visiting the States, that still doesn't make much sense because Messina is a veritable trading sea hub, and you would have been able to exchange all your money before you left.
Judas' Advice Column
This is where I take a Dear Abby column, and add my own brand of advice. I started by calling it Dear Crabby, but that's taken and JERKASS seems more fun.