Dear Kathryn Elizabeth Schifsky,
We’ve been friends for a long time you and me. Remember how it started that spring 13 years ago? We were on the same soccer team. I had short hair and was often mistaken as a boy. I think you played mid-field. We lost touch after I quit, but then rekindled our friendship at the freshmen bus stop. You used to give me rides to school once you got your drivers license and I’d make you listen to Shake Ya Tail Feather over and over again the entire way there. Isn’t it funny how your parents always thought you were behaving yourself if you were with me?
Recall that I convinced you to move to Chicago– where you found ulimate happiness and a slightly ridiculous affection for Jameson. We spent 3 months together in a studio apartment, Kate. A studio. We ate so much brunch and swam in the apartment complex foundation and watched a grip of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. You know each and every liquid I like to consume when I’m hungover. We are friends. Really good friends. Yet– you’ve never been to visit me in DC, Kate. And that hurts my feelings. And you know how many feelings I have.
I know I convinced you to move to Chicago and then left you there, but do you know how many times I’ve visited Chicago since I left? 6 times. 6 whole mother fucking times I have gotten in a car or on a plane to come see you in the past 2 1/2 years. Not coming to visit me in DC is unfair. It addition, it is also un-American. Elected Members of Congress send dick pics from DC, Kate. How could you not want to visit here?
I direct you to the following websites to help you in your endeavor:
2. Orbitz, hater.
I’ll be anxiously awaiting your arrival.