Dear ___________,

I am sure you noticed that I vanished. Sorry about that. Hey, at least we weren’t in a relationship! Yeah, I know that we were decent friends for a couple years before we went on that business trip to California. There was something in the California air, I think, or maybe it was the fact that I had tried to get it on with another guy who turned out to be useless in the dick department. I was feeling horny, so I decided you were “it.” It was a just a bonus that you’re good looking!

According to my plan, I ended up in your hotel room. What a great conversation! Music, chess, you have a brain! I thought I had hit the jackpot! I was thrilled when we kissed. You have a talent for it, for sure. I was definitely hot for you. I know the feeling was mutual. I noticed that as soon as we lay on the bed. Everything was going swimmingly when I decided to check out the goods. Well endowed to boot! At this point I was giving myself an imaginary pat on the back.

…And then you had to bust out what some would call a “shit-eating grin.”

Really? I have never been so terrified.

For a split second, I thought I had found a ticklish spot and was ready to laugh out loud until I realized that I had somehow awakened your inner clown.

In later conversations with close friends I have attempted to explain the horror that I felt at the sight of your face. You reacted as if I had touched your penis, given you a million dollars, and sent you down a roller coaster hill all in one instant. Was it your first time? I almost asked you this out loud.

To top it all off, you started to pant a bit. I think this is where my out of body experience began. I saw a horrified girl on a hotel bed holding the cock of an extremely happy Latino, who was quite possibly impersonating a golden retriever, drool and all.

That is about the time when I told you that I really liked you and that I didn’t want to rush anything. I wanted to save it and make it special. Well, sorry, I was feeding you a line of bullshit. I bailed as fast as I could.

I know that I promised to call and visit, but when you started to say not-so-subtle things about soul mates and marriage and litters of children, I started to sub-consciously plot your demise.

I changed my number and I am thankful to this day that we lived so far apart.