What the letter said was that I found her very attractive and that I’d seen her walking her dog a lot and so I just wanted to say hello. It also said that I’d watched her several times through a window, but not like HER window or anything. I meant through my car window when I was driving. And that “watching,” sounds so creepy. It was more like I just happened to glance over and see her.
That was the gist of it. And I didn’t have any paper so I wrote it on an old traffic ticket envelope and put it under her windshield wiper blade.
“Hey!” she screamed.
I started to respond, but she marched right by me and up to the parking enforcement officer who I guess was standing behind me.
“I was parked just fine!” she screamed. “What is this, some sort of bullshit quota you have to fill?!”
He didn’t like the accusations and so he fired right back.
“I didn’t give you a ticket!”
“Man oh man,” I thought.
And I guess she was having one of those days because she pulled a gun out of her purse and shot the parking officer three times in the chest. Then, she put the gun barrel in her own mouth and pulled the trigger. It was a huge mess.
“Well, I guess that’s a no,” I said, in a real sitcom-y voice.
“WAY-TO-MAKE-IT-ALL-ABOUT-YOU,” boomed the helmet fastened to my dog’s head that converted his barks to English.
I poured the remainder of my expensive latte on the dog’s helmet, which caused it to crackle and malfunction.
The right girl was out there somewhere. And I would find her.
Next to me, the dog’s helmet made a crackling noise. A sarcastic crackling noise.