Courtesy, Buzzfeed

We don't know one another but I'm also a baker. Bisexual. Cis-Male. Living in the mid-western state of Oklahoma. That's as much as I'm willing to narrow it down. But, I've been a long time reader and my friend mentioned you used to write advice letters. She's an improv teacher who used to know, and respect you in NYC. 

I know you're in LA now, but what about some advice?

See, my problem is, I think my straight, white, cis-het boss is hitting on me? He's so homophobic and will make comments like, be a little less gay, or turn down that Gaga and turn up the baseball game, or sometimes he just tells me the customers like me but please be less gay.

He says it to my face. Customers like me a little gay, not a lot. 

On top of that he's constantly putting his hands on my waist or grabbing my thighs with both hands when he stoops down below the baking table to get a pan, or a mixer, or a spatula. 

Help me out? I like this guy, and he's fair, but I don't like being told "how gay" to be at work, or being touched like that, especially when such touching is followed up with weird jokes like "haha you're lucky it's not after five - I don't know what I'd do if I had a drink or two in me!"

How can I be the right amount of gay, and how do I keep this job, with a handsy-yet-nice boss?

If you can't answer, I understand. You're busy. But may I say? The writing has always been good, but lately, you're exceptional Mr. PIEFOLK. I only hope you're being nice to Mr. Michael. 

Love for you, Brother - you can edit this if you need to!


Hands-free device 

I Love Me event, 2018

Dear HFD,

I’m simultaneously bored and mortified for you. How boring your boss can’t keep his hands to himself. How boring he’s using his “straight privilege” against you in such an unacceptable way.

I almost didn’t use this letter, or answer it at all. I get so much email like this. But something struck me, here. Are you an out bisexual? And, are you out to your boss? If yes, you have lots of options. You can tell him to stop. You can quit. You can hire a lawyer to ask him for a settlement, if you feel he’s violating labor laws (he is).

But, what do you want from this? What’s the easiest, least stressful thing to do? I think the answer lies somewhere in-between quitting and just letting him do whatever he wants. I think you should confront him, and be firm. Talk to him face to face and tell him, no, I don’t like how you treat me and no, I don’t think it’s professional. Be sure to bring up the touching and how awkward it is to have anyone of any sexuality or gender or race – exploit the employer/employee labor contract. Say what’s not acceptable, and tell him you’ll give him a few weeks to think about it and adjust.

After a few weeks, if you think you can tolerate the new version of him, then mention how much better he’s behaving. If you think he needs improvement, you can point that out too – just always frame it as “us working together better” rather than “here’s a list of my unreasonable demands.” You get the nuance? It’s the same list, is what I’m saying.

If, however, after the period of adjustment is up, and you still feel unacceptable behavior is happening, explain you need a leave of absence to contemplate other options. If he fires you, you have a strong lawsuit claim, in most states.

Last pieces of advice? Grow a thick skin. Don’t take any shit. Keep your side of the street clean.

I hope this helps you, and that you stay happy in your situation. Believe me, it’s easier than running after a settlement that may never materialize. Don’t forget, he can liquidate his LLC and sell the equipment/lease at any moment, and not ask you permission or even tell you, until you show up to work in an empty building. What I’m saying is, ask for a reasonable settlement/renegotiation, and you might get it.

Love you, and next time send photos of pie, or noods (photos of noodles, that is).

Always the love, between us,




Dear Piefolk,


My name is Michelle.  I am a brunette 29 year old French-American woman living on the Upper West Side of Manhattan.  My boyfriend, let’s call him Jeremy,  is one year older than me. He just told me that he’s leaving me for a very wealthy 48 year old South American man. 

Jeremy, a redhead with sad brown eyes and perfect skin has never claimed to be gay, acted gay, or even had a lot of close male friends.  He broke it to me last Friday over a lovely Italian dinner that we couldn’t afford, saying literally “This charming man has the funds to take care of me.  One day, maybe he will take care of us.  In the meantime, I’m leaving you to live in Buenos Aires”.  I chuckled and sipped my Chianti until I saw the look in his eye and then I welled up with tears.  I KNEW something was coming.  But FUCK.  Why this?

He says he still loves me but now I have a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that doesn’t go away.  I know deep down this is somehow my fault.  I have headaches every day.  I don’t eat.  I don’t understand. 

Jeremy grew up in London with a very, very  rich father and was surrounded by all the super luxury anyone could imagine.  He went to the most expensive prep schools, vacationed in Switzerland, and even had an enormous stock portfolio when we first met… He’s been estranged from his mother since he was 8 or 9.  I guess she was diagnosed with a mental illness at some point and left London to go live with relatives in England somewhere.  He doesn’t know or doesn’t say where.  He says he doesn’t care.

I don’t know why it matters.  I don’t know why I’m asking.  I found this site online.  I want to know about the gay thing. Tell me.  Could this be possible?  We’ve been together on and off  for 5 years and have had amazing sex until a few months ago.  He constantly complains about finances and the recent lack of opportunity for tried and true westerners in NY.

He thinks he needs this man and his money but maybe he just wants to try something new or leave town.  To leave the crumbling US of A.  I love NY and he knows I don’t want to leave.  Could this one person really be offering him everything?  I know I can’t. I went to a prestigeous college and then modeled for a famous designer but now I work at an organic nutrition clinic.  I can pay my bills but that’s about all.  I do love Jeremy but I will never get his stock portfolio back. 

I guess maybe Juan Carlos will.  Or maybe Jeremy will come back.  Should I wait for him? My arms are numb and my hands are cold and I know the winter is just barely upon us.

Thanks for reading and don’t worry if you have no answers.



Dear Michelle,

Wow. This is a tough letter to answer.

First of all, let me tell you – my name is not PIEFOLK, it’s Michael.

Secondly, I want to make sure you understand this: what’s happened is not your fault – not in any sense of the word. You don’t get to blame yourself for this one, Michelle. There’s no telling what people will do for money, and if your straight boyfriend wants to prostitute himself for money (no matter how much money) you have no agency over his character, ethics, morals or actions. Nobody is expecting you to make sense of this, either.

How can you make sense of this? You can’t. You can only lock the door to your soft, beautiful heart, and don’t answer if he comes knocking again, even with baubles from Paris, or a Tiffany engagement ring. He doesn’t really love you. He loves money. I hate to say it, but it doesn’t matter how well appointed he is, how nicely tailored his Armani suit might be, or if he owns a yacht  someday. He’s never going to win you back. He’s abandoned you, and any real love he might have forged with you – all for the thrill of chasing the money dragon.

You will never see him again. Put yourself in the position of the ‘wealthy 48 year-old South American man.’ If this guy is pulling the purse strings, do you think he’s going to have any sort of interest in splitting the affections of a beautiful man with (gasp!) a woman? No.

Your long term boyfriend has left the bohemian freedom of NYC (and your arms) to live as a pretty red bird in a gilded cage. On the other hand, if you can put this behind you, you have the freedom to fly. I hope you fly, and sing, and migrate, and someday I hope you find someone with flaws, who’s sort of pretty, who can be the caretaker of your tender, mysterious heart. Until then, you are your own husband.

It’s not that difficult to be your own husband. Take yourself on dates. Buy yourself flowers. Kiss strangers when it feels safe.

Once, I loved a perfect Taiwanese man. He had inky black hair and perfect skin. His posture was flawless and he was well suited to work in the art world. He was gorgeous and he had such poise. However, he was only beautiful on the outside. He had no idea the meaning of kindness, of compromise, of mutual understanding. It was always his way or the highway. He didn’t care about my stress level, about my complicated labyrinthine heart, about my unique philosophy about openness and family.

Love is staying together. Love is growing together, and apart, and reconvening after a long day to share the triumphs and tragedies of daily life. Love is staying. Love is a choice. He’s choosing not to love you. In some sense, he never loved you in the first place. He tricked you. He lied.

Someday you might run into him at a party, or an event, or some such drudgery one must attend to stay visible in the world of fashion. If it were me, I’d take a short walk with him and forgive him. It’s a selfish act, forgiveness. We do it so we can be free of the pain caused by others. Then, I would walk away and never look back.

Some say ‘forgive and forget.’ I have an impeccable memory. I say, just forgive.

Remember yourself.



p.s. The US of A is not crumbling. We are experiencing the aftershock of globalization. It was the Clintons that wanted to globalize America in order to even out the wealth in the world. We still have resources and creative verve. You can head back to Europe if you like, but as for me, I’m staying right here.