Sunday, March 1, 2009

second window please

We met that fateful night. You were doing your thing in the drive through at McDonalds. Me? I was in a drunken rage and my friend wanted a cheeseburger. I drove on up to the window, and you proceeded to spit mad game at me. I couldnt hear you and you asked if my friend was my "man" to which i replied "hell no". You so casually wrote me your number on a bag and slipped it in with my order of fries. You texted me this poem a few days later:

Ur Da Bullet 2my gun, Da Moon 2my sun, Da Rite 2ny wrong, Da Lyrics 2my song, Da Truth 2my Lie, My Homie Til I Die.

Now, I dont know how anyone could not be extremely flattered by that. I dont think I've ever had someone think of me so highly before. You got me sprung and I dont care who sees. I saw you again on Friday and Saturday nights this weekend. Friday night I was drunk as always and we decided to pull on through McDonalds. You were working thank god, and were so cute and giggly and excited to see me. I noticed some of your acne went away along with the grease. When I got to your window I propped myself up out my car window and asked for  kiss. You replied no at first but then you leaned out of your window and I kissed your cheek. I was seeing fireworks.  Last night my friends and I were craving some shit so we decided to say hello to go see you once again. This time you were in the back, hiding from me and the guy in the window that time had to go and get you. You magically turned our small fries into mediums this weekend, and this is just to say thanks. But I think I'm gonna try to hook a boy who works at Taco Bell instead.

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