Inspired by: Baby, In in the Mood for You
I think I saw you standing on the interstate the other day. You were arguing with an older man, like mid-fifties, then you got into his car and drove him away. It didn’t look like you were in an accident, but I was kind of expecting to see you at my hospital anyway. I hope whatever it was, it worked out!
I still have to reject your notion that Beacon is a garbage city. If anything, it’s suffers compared to its history. It peaked too early, and the world moved on. When the country was founded, this was the place to be. Maybe with America’s disaffected Millenials moving here, we can be on top again!
It’s funny you mention the Manpire, but I’m afraid to say he’s entirely fictional. He was actually created at Elizabeth Hopkins. An orderly was stealing rare blood types and selling them on a black market. When they were caught, they blamed it on a 6’6″ hunk who made him do it.
Nowadays he’s mostly a regional boogie man. It’s tougher to say they took on the manpire than got caught cheating by their wife.
Anyway, I’ve written and deleted this email like a dozen times. I don’t always know what to say or how I’m feeling. Sometimes I think getting coffee with you might be fun, and I promise I’ll pay next time, but other times I just don’t want to leave my house.
I guess what I’m really getting at is that I’m swamped at the hospital most of the time and don’t have much free time. The free time I have isn’t enough to get to know someone the way they deserve.
TL;DR. I’m busy, I’m flakey, would you like to get dinner sometime?
Hope this is finding you well,