Thanks for the sundae
By donnamarie
Thanks for the sundae. I long for the boring, do-nothing nights. I miss your car, the first or the second. I miss the parking lot, my ass-print on the hood. We ran through the aisles, and I’d scare the old women. We searched for that guy, and you’d hide when we found him. I remember the ride home. We’d flash cars, while drove our getaway car. There’s that time in Jersey, when I was a slut and danced for that guy. Hey, thanks for taking me in and listening to my sobs. Oh, and for all of the free Ruby dinners. My birthday was great. You had those guys come out of the kitchen and embarrass me with a song and a sundae. Thanks for the sundae.sundaes can mean the world to someone. they can be the difference of life and death. Written January 11th, 2002 © on Jan 11 2002 12:29 PM PST 18 • 0 • 8
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"Thanks for the sundae...."