Oh, excuse me. I should have locked the door. No, it’s okay. You just caught me working out with my shirt off, that’s all. It gets so hot, you know, that I have to take it off or I get the whole thing sweaty. If you’re comfortable with it, I’ll just keep it off.

You don’t mind? I’m pleased to hear that. I like being comfortable with people. Especially a beautiful lady like yourself. Is that…yes, I think it’s Hermès’ 24 Faubourg, right? Why, thank you, but it’s hard to forget a smell like that…and harder still once you smell it on someone as beautiful as yourself.

Please, don’t blush. You shouldn’t. You deserve more. That’s what I want to talk to you. I know you’ve been hurt by what studs did to you. I know it, because I probably did it to you, too. I don’t want to pressure you, but I can’t stop thinking about you. You know, you don’t even really have to be my girlfriend, but…I just want to know your name.

We could hang out, hook up, or just chill. I’m not usually this forward, but we’re both adults here. I know that you’re not used to a man treating you the way you should be treated. Or, if he did, it only happened, say, 7 out of every 12 times it went down. I promise you that, even if there’s a rocky start, we can do better than that.

I’m good all by myself, but something’s telling me that we could be a force when we’re together.

You’ve got my number. I’ve got yours. Life’s short. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go receive a sports massage. The release it offers my tired muscles is almost unequalled by anything else, except for something a gentleman only shares with the woman he loves, cares for, and holds in his hand like the tiny baby sparrow she is.

Sincerely,

The Georgia Tech defense and Brad Jefferson.

ps. My friend Michael is available, as well. He’s a sensitive poet-warrior who requires a firm hand and a soft heart. I have enclosed a picture of him for your friends to examine.

FYI: He likes open mike night at spoken word and watercolors.