Dear Shorty McCreepy Fuck, [ 2003-06-12, 10:45 p.m. ]

Your macho posturing and incoherent chatter apparently did not get you the props you thought you deserved from my friend and I tonight. You were close enough to us to hear our conversation and butt in with unwanted commentary. You finally left after scribbling an incoherent note on a beer coaster.

And a half hour later, I'm sure you thought you were clever waiting for my friend and I outside the bar, then following us down the street. But uh-oh, we noticed you! And yes, you thought you had outfoxed us with the fake turn down the side street. But what ho! We trumped you with the oldest trick in the book, the duck-into-another-bar maneuver. And though you stood in heavy traffic, trying to see where we had gone, you were perplexed and had to move on.

And while you were probably just a harmless drunken fool, if you had come close enough to confront us, be assured that I could and would have kicked you with enough force to send you back down the street and into the waiting arms of the Gold Star bouncer.

Asshole.

thisaway - thataway

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