Dear Dude Who Was Kicked Out Of Manhattan’s Blue Ruin Bar For Eating A Salad In The Bathroom,
Where have you been all my life? Finally, someone who understands the simple pleasure of eating leafy greens in the serenity of a lavatory. I love to take my salad breaks in the bathtub. Like the bartender who kicked you out of the men’s room before you had a chance to finish your salad (what was in it, by the way?), friends and acquaintances have expressed disbelief, even repulsion, that I would want to eat my veggies whilst lounging in the tub. But fuck them, soulmate of mine. Come on over to my house — I have a toilet seat with your name on it. I’ll draw a hot bath — perhaps I won’t even make you avert your eyes — and we can clink forks before drowning out the haters with the loud crunch of romaine hearts and cucumber slices. I’m getting hot just thinking about it. All I ask is that you bring the dressing. I prefer balsamic vinegar-based.
See you soon, I hope,