Letters

Dear Person Driving Down Greene Street at Approximately 2:15 PM,

It's awesome how loud you keep your music. When you drove past me in your 80's Chevette, with your ghetto blaster booming I thought, "Now that's a man." And I meant it. The way you scorned convention by sinking your money into a super-cool stereo system, rather than doing the obvious thing and having your passenger-side door fixed? Hot. And the duct tape holding that one window together? Raging.

And thanks for whistling. I mean, when you told me you wanted to give me your baby? Well, I've never really told anyone this before, but that's how I always pictured it would be. Some girls want their guy to get down on his knee with flowers and all that stuff. But, me? You hit it on the head. Just drive by me and scream out some form of the word "impregnate," and I'm yours. It'd be an honor to mix our genetic materials. Really.

Anyway, I'm sure all the stuff you said about my pussy was just the kind of sweet talk you use on all the girls. And, with that kind of charm, and such a cool ride, I'm sure you get laid all. The. Time. So you've probably already forgotten about me and our little moment at the crosswalk today. But, I won't forget anytime soon.

Here's to wondering what might have been,

Kathryn