| rev:text
| - I guess it was bound to happen, people grow apart, love doesn't always last.
It's hard enough to park at your place, but I'd always finagle a way. Just to be near you. Then the neighbors started blocking the side road options, but I was willing to walk to be with you.
I had noticed your growing libido and sophistication, you got into wine. Sometimes you drank too much, but I wasn't concerned, you were witty, you were upscale, you won awards. So you got a bit arrogant and cocky, who wouldn't with all the sudden acclaim?
I thought with time you'd chill out and we'd be cool again.
When you started sharing your fantasies about some Italian chick from Milano, I was somewhat jealous, but you said there was plenty of you to go around. Maybe that would have been the case if you didn't move her into the same block where we hung together. Did you really have to crowd me out that way?
I should have seen the signs back then, but I didn't want to. I'd come by and you were always so busy. I don't want to cramp your style, but I missed your flavor baby. I didn't want to be too clingy, so I didn't come by as often.
Every now and then I'd think back to our first date. The flickering candle and the juicy large grilled wings. Your wings were so good and tempted again I'd head out. On the way I remembered a more recent visit when your wings, like your feelings had started to change. Sometimes burnt, sometimes cold. Your mind wasn't on us, baby. Your mood swings were getting out of control. I suspected that your attention was all on that lovely Milano Chick, but she's a fling and I'm the real deal, so I let you be.
Weeks would go by before I'd talk myself into spending some time with you. I started to be more creative when we made love, customizing the toppings despite the surcharges piling up. Taking our traditional 13 dollar item straight into the stratosphere. Oh you tasted great this way, but the price of these visits were starting to hurt.
I soothed my hurt feelings with the richness of Arlecchino next door. Yeah, if you can love an Italian, so could I baby. He was always willing to lend an ear, to let me cry on his shoulder when you were too busy to give a damn.
I told him about the time when I came over and sat on the couch for 20 minutes before you even realized you had company. You had one of your hipster friends serve me some drinks, telling me you were in the back and would be right out, but you never came. I walked out in tears, but not before a quickie with Arlecchino.
And how another time you made me pay for your bad wings and I didn't catch it on the bill until later, that was underhanded and cold. Arlecchino just nodded and gave me two free samples. He's a considerate partner.
After I walked out that night, you hardly ever called me, but my cravings for the memories of the past would sometimes return. I think of the night we shared that roasted corn and goat cheese, that pitcher of Stella Artois and you introduced me to all your new hipster friends.
So when I came by on Sunday afternoon I was puzzled. You didn't even greet me at the door with a smile. I let myself in. Where did all your hipster friends go, LGO? I was determined not to just sit on the couch being ignored again.
I'll be patient, I'm sure you'll be right over.
So hungry for you, I glimpsed a blond over in the kitchen. I had to know, did she know where you were? Oh, she said, looking at me like I was your mother not lover she said "Those hipster friends don't hang here, just get in line over there and help yourself."
So shocked, you're just a whore now to everyone.
I'm supposed to go over to the meat market, stand in line with the rest of your bitches, tell you what I want without even a welcoming kiss of attention and then get it myself when it's ready? Or I can call ahead and you'll leave some love note on a counter for me to pick up and take home to read alone?
This is how you roll? I'm not even worth a goodbye hug?
So I'm leaving my own little love note to you with my BFF Yelp.
"Baby, when I come over to your place, I want to sit down, be with you one on one, maybe chat with some of your friends. Have them bring me the warm lemon towel when you get my fingers all sticky. I don't want to wait in line like a Mcdonald's, for your attentions, then go serve it to myself. If I wanted to self pleasure I wouldn't be on a date. I finally get it. You're just not that into me anymore. You know what, the feeling is mutual. Consider your poser ass dumped."
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