“I’d like the milk and cookies. And something super gay creamy and alcoholic to go with it. Like a White Russian. Wait, can you make a Girl Scout Cookie? No, never mind, White Russian.”
To Whom It May Concern:
I met David Levy four and a half years ago when I moved to Boston. We became friends because we both volunteered to be on a committee for a Jewish LGBT organization. I once told him I felt like he was the cool senior I looked up to in high school, and I stand by that assessment of him. He’s smart, he’s funny, and he’s got his life together. Hell, I’d vote for him for homecoming king.
We’ve gotten closer over the past few years, so now I would call him part of my chosen family here in Boston. I’m really sad he’s going to New York! I’ll miss him a lot, but I’m sure we’ll keep in touch. He’s the sort of guy who’s good at keeping in touch. He’s also the sort of guy who does all the things one is supposed to do. Think of a thing that a good person does, and David Levy does it. He calls his mother. He remembers to bring something when he comes over to someone’s house. He emails his friends when he hears of a job opportunity in their field. He sends thank you notes. He makes great lasagna. He works out.
When he’s tired because he had a long week, he still goes to that social engagement, because he promised so-and-so he would be there. I know this action alone doesn’t make him some kind of hero, but it’s the consistency that really makes it amazing. David Levy is a good guy every single day. Every single week, all year long, he does the right thing. He’s not super human—he cheats on his diet sometimes, and then he feels shlumpy—but he’s just so wonderfully GOOD. Aside from my wife, he might be the best person I know.
Whoever you are, you’d be lucky to have him.