Three little words.
I hear them and my pace quickens, my face flushes, I might get a little jittery at work.
I watched as you came closer. You knew I would, didn’t you?
However.
Once in a while, there is a tease.
You know what I’m talking about: Come here, go away, come here, go away. Maybe I’ll see you out later.
I sent you some cash late last week. I was content to wait out the long weekend, when I knew you probably had other plans.
But really, today, you do this to me? You leave Memphis and tell me you’re in Decatur. I look around the place; is it ready? Decatur. Less than an hour and you’ll be here.
What? You’re where? Earth City, Mo.? Who could possibly be there? And why are you going then to Hodgkins, Ill.? Where the heck is Hodgkins, Ill., anyway? The suburbs? What happened to Decatur?
Why do you do this to me? You know the words I long to hear:
“Out for delivery.”
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