My Dearest Tube Top,
I have the gravest of fears you remember not the night we met. It was about two Thursdays past, at the Sandbar Mexican Restaurant & Tequila Bar, about a quarter until eleven in the night. Oh, that night! I walked in and ordered a whiskey sour, as all proper Southern California gentlemen should, and then… it happened. I saw you standing there in your Lulu’s and that matching tube top. My darling I must profess, you were thicker than a two-ply roll of Charmin Ultra Soft toilet paper. I couldn’t fathom what my life — nay, my night — would be like without you to dance near and possibly to hold hands with.
All of this changed when you cast your paralyzing gaze on me.
I felt all the blood drain from whatever sober parts of my brain were left and find their way to my heart. I dared not make that move, for you were like a lioness and I, like the trembling zebra, was caught in your kill-zone.
And then you made your way to me. My dear, I’ll have you know that I have seen all episodes of “The Crocodile Hunter” and have extensively studied the “Can You Feel the Love Tonight?” scene from “The Lion King,” so I knew we were about to obey the laws of the jungle. Imagine my surprise when you merely came up, twirled in front of me, winked and retired to your friends once more… It was enchanting, and now the ball was in my court.
Alas, we were doomed! I was far too inebriated to search for you, and my colleagues were on the move to a place called Wildcat. I weep every night since we parted, and I listen to “Candle in the Wind” by Elton John on repeat. If you ever wish to see me again, my bar-crossed lover, find me where we first met on the evening Thursday, Oct. 18 at around the same time.
Cute Brunette Guy in a Hawaiian Shirt
Brock Clark wants you to know this is a true story and that he actually will be wearing that Hawaiian shirt tomorrow night.