My Dearest Parlor,
Here we are a year later, and here I am, disappointed in myself for still lusting after you. And a little awkward that you are still asking our mutual friend to hook us up, when clearly you don't care as much as you say you do.
Sure, our visit starts off hot and heavy, and I usually end up leaving on neutral terms, but the next day I always end up wishing it was more, and I am beginning to lose faith.
One day you tell me I can order my food without tomatoes and the next day I'm not allowed. Sometimes you forget to bring my wine to my table. Your menu of services usually only offers a couple things tempting enough to try.
I will thank you for finally letting me have cake, but you're still a hit and miss lover and I don't know why you toy with me so. But I'm partially to blame for continually falling for your Roger Sterling appeal.