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While I was going to work last Thursday, I saw you on Bryn Mawr standing near your truck. You're tall, rock an awesome beard and, if memory serves, are quite studly. I was wearing a brown pleated miniskirt, red sweater, scarf and boots and had my hair in braids. You stopped and rolled down your window to tell me how cute I looked and I wanted to tell you how cute I thought you were too. Hang out sometime?
Leaving your small child (4-6 years) in a locked car with the windows rolled up on a hot day while shopping at ghetto Smith’s is deplorable. When you spend money to advertise your own conscientiousness with a vanity plate on a Prius, its hypocrisy. Luckily your car is easy to remember. If I see him left in the parking lot again while you shop, I'm calling child services.
It was a while ago, but I came to the front desk of our office looking for help with jump-starting my car. You offered me a different kind of jump. I've been thinking a lot about you and have tried to find you. I know it's a bit late, but I'd love to take you up on that offer.