Dear bad-ass with the 2003 Chevy Tahoe and 7-inch lift,

I know its not your fault that you and I pull up to the same
intersection at the same time every morning. It's just that I think
you know very well what this all means. When you peer through your
ominously tinted window, down through the top of my open sun-roof, all
chances of us ever being friends are dashed to peices, your two-step
beat pouding the small skeleton of my efficient sedan (I don't mind
country music, but what's the point of having four twelves, if your
not going to play hip hop?). My silver four-door hatchback may not
suit your tastes, but listen pal, it gets 20 more miles to the gallon
than you will ever see. Oddly, the light to which we must both succumb
at 29th and Carter Creek Pkwy is red 95% of the time. This means that
we will be seeing a lot of eachother. May I suggest that we have a
very important decision to make. That light, no matter how insiduous,
will either be an obstacle, or a door into a world of wonderous
opportunity.

I won't pretend to understand the hardships of maintaining such an
image as the one you must slave under. What do you do when your
feminine side starts to show its pretty little face? You must
internalize, right? Who is going to listen to a guy with tobbacco
stuck between the cracks of his bottom front teeth blubber about his
feelings being hurt? No one. Not when you must travel the same asphalt
7 inches higher than the rest of us. And especially not when you are
wearing those steel-toe boots, oakly sunglasses, and an American Eagle
shirt that says, "Beaver Lake Lacrosse".

Despite our differences, I want you to know that sometimes I really
feel for you. I think, "What would I do with all that money to spend
and not enough time in the day?" There's no turning back once you've
dedicated your life to such bad-assdome. Please realize, I'm not
asking you to turn back or be someone your not. Just be your bad self.
Let's simply try to make the best of things the way they are.

I'll make a deal with you. You need a break from carrying the
responsibility of being so hard, right? And I need til at least after
lunch to deal with that kind of intimidation. If you want to let down
the facade for a few moments, I won't tell. In return please don't
look at me unless your are going to smile. And it would be nice if I
didn't have to listen to that David Allen Coe crap until noon. Though
it would make for an exellent feature in the paper (Local Badass Finds
Difficulty In Maintaining Image), I wouldn't take advantage of you
like that. I will raise the other four fingers and juxtaposition my
palm in friendly gesture, if you will. Do you realize what kind of
mutual relationship we could have? I suppose you think I'm joking, but
look at my face next time we meet, the very defiinition of grave.We
can make this work!

Sincerely,

Ryan Vaughn
Bryan, TX