July 2000 Winner
The Eraserhead Award
For Disturbing Behaviour

Dear Lady in Red,

I am sorry to keep calling you this but I do not know your name. I am writing to you because I feel that there are things that I want to say to you and I am not at Bunkers Hill to talk to you.

Firstly, since my job went wrong and became unemployed I have been very ill mentally and my life is badly ruined. I do like my beer these days and am not able to become “tea-total”. My average beer consumption per week is about 25-30 pints – but this can include orange squash if I am in some pubs. Now I have only been smoking 1 year because of depression and I am trying to stop or slow down a lot.

I really do not want hangovers because of big cigar smoking and I have noticed recently that my leg muscles tighten up after I have done quite a bit of smoking and I become lame.

Because of the length of time I have been unemployed I have slowly run up credit card debt in order to enjoy myself a bit and after 4 years it mounts up. I am sorry to have to tell you this but I earned £100 extra each week which after 4 years is £21,000 which is seven times what I owe.

Please do not blame me for this it has not been easy these last 4 years and things are getting worse.

The other problem with not working is the sheer boredom which I suffer from and it is very unpleasant.

I really am quite a nice person and I hardly swore until things went badly wrong. I used to be active doing cycle touring, walking and youth hostel traveling. I used to take slide photographs and build model ships.

I do not know when I shall see you again because I have no money at the moment and cannot go out much. I wish that I could work with you it would be better than being bored. I am not sure whether I can say I love you or not but I know about a week ago I felt funny. Another thing that concerns me is that should we eventually get together I really am not sure how good my virility is, but I only hope that if love does eventually work, then I hope not to have anything to worry about.

I did wonder, since I am short of money whether you may wish to visit me at the address on the front page. There are some woods not far away and the view across the hills is splendid.

I hope that you do not mind me writing to you. If you were to visit me you would need to catch a No 24, 25, 26, or 27 outside Dixons at Victoria Centre and get off at the Westdale Tavern. Actually this is my mother’s house and it is behind some garages. At least you know where I live. Perhaps you will write to me?

Love

Trevor

Dear Lady in Red,

Can you believe that this is my third letter to you and I still do not know your name? I wish that I knew your name. I wish that I was brave enough to ask you, but you scare me. You are too beautiful, despite all your faults.

You need to know that I am not a good looking man. I have never been beautiful but over the stress has become visible on my face and in particular on my eyes, which now seem hollow. I can promise you that they are not empty, because I use them to see you. Even when I close my eyes, I see you.

However, I am worried about us - you have never really paid me any attention (although I do not blame you for this) and you have not replied to my other letters. I wonder if you even feel the same way that I do. Do you care? I feel very much for you. The idea that you do not feel anything for me is very scary.

You know a lot about me. You know that I am unemployed, that I drink and smoke too much, that I am very depressed and have attempted to take my own life. You also know that I keep hamsters and watch Channel Four.

Writing to you makes me feel sane. I hope you do not mind. I hope you never feel the same way as I do - sometimes I cannot even be bothered to go to the toilet until I think how smelly it would be if I didn't. Things have really got that bad.

It is not fair.

I wonder if you would ever want to be seen out with me? I sometimes think about going shopping in Aldi with you, because I know you are not rich either. I have seen you in the Co-Op and I am surprised that you go there because you are not rich either and I cannot afford it in there. Where do you get your money from? Sometimes I wonder.

I don't like to think of you selling yourself. I wouldn't let that happen if you were going out with me.

Well, I do not have much else to say at the moment. I hope to have enough money to come and see you soon. As it is I am stealing paper and stamps from my mother, who is too old to notice. She would not mind anyway, as she wants me to be happy. I do not think I ever will be unless love finds a way.

I do not want to be sentimental. My hamsters can tell when I am upset and they become agitated and restless, and run around all night and keep me awake. What with the hamsters and my mother, sometimes I think I live in a madhouse.

I hope that I will see you soon. You could always write to me. You have my address. It would be nice if you acknowledged me.

Love

Trevor.