An open letter to Gainesville
We need to talk. I know our relationship has always been rocky, but I have to say, you're not really doing your part. Particularly when I'm driving and you do that thing-- you know-- where you ride my ass incessantly? Yeah, that. Can you stop that? Can you possibly stop riding my ass so close that it seems like you're trying to snort cocaine out of my tailpipe? That would really help our day-to-day relationship, I think. Oh, and another thing. I hope it's not asking too much. But could you stop pulling out in front of me? I know you're trying to show me your dangerous side and while that's understandable-- I know some girls really go for that-- it really makes me hate you. That's why I start cursing like a sailor when you do it, but maybe you haven't noticed. I'm not trying to bail on you-- I'm in this at least for another couple years. But I'd really love it if you'd meet me halfway on this. Just think it over.
Sincerely,
Emily