Listen, I get it, really I do. You're kind of a big deal, the bees knees, God's gift to women. Don't think for a second that I didn't notice. I saw it the second you walked in the door. You're tall, dark, handsome and a great dancer...and you know it, don't you. Yeah, you strut around with your harem of girls in tow. They don't see it, and neither did I at first. But I find myself thoroughly disillusioned. I see the insincerity dripping from your sweet smile, feel the lie in your hand on the small of my back and if we're speaking frankly, I think you are a fool. I refuse to drape myself over you and vie for your attention. I have better things to do. Here's the thing, I'm cute, funny and a pretty dang good follow. so if you want to flash that smile, wrap your arms around me and lie to me softly about being too tired and wanting to go home when I ask you to dance, then I shan't waste my time on the likes of you. I will look you straight in the eyes as you stay for another hour and a half and dance with other girls and I'll dance you right out of my head with other boys that are just as good as you. So, hot stuff, it's been real and we had some great dances, but please understand that when I never think about you again, it's not me, it's you.
In all sincerity,