An open letter to the woman who let her boyfriend take her to Mr. Hero on Valentine's Day,
Wow. You have a classy guy there, don't you, woman who let her boyfriend take her to Mr. Hero on Valentine's Day? I'm so jealous of the depth of your relationship that likely bloomed over whiskey shots and a well-rehearsed cheap pick up line just a few hours earlier. I overheard that the two of you got drunk off your asses at the neighborhood bar across the street, aptly named "Knuckleheads," while I was standing in line behind you trying to avoid watching the two of your white trash asses sticking your tongues down each other's throats and groping each other while in line at the freaking Mr. Hero... on Valentine's Day. I just wanted to order a Romanburger, I didn't want to watch a hillbilly re-enactment of Caligula. You two deserve each other. Really. Did I seriously hear the sweet sounds of En Vogue crooning "What a Man" pouring down from the tiny speakers hidden in the ceiling, or was I dreaming? How appropriately ironic. Who would have thought that Cupid would make a surprise appearance at the Mr. Hero of all places? Oh, what a wonderful world, indeed. I can only pray and hope to God that the two of you sorry excuses for human beings use condoms tonight and every time thereafter. I beg of you to get on The Pill if you're already not, but it might not matter since your sleezebag boyfriend's sperm count was probably destroyed long ago from smoking too much marijuana. Mr. Hero is among the least romantic places I can think of, and it's definitely not a make out spot, woman who let her boyfriend take her to Mr. Hero on Valentine's Day. But, all things considered, I forgive you because, really, who doesn't get a little turned on by a hot buttered cheese steak and criss cross potato thingies that you can dip in a small plastic container of gooey cheddar?