An Open Letter to the Tinder Date I Ghosted

Larry, Look. For the record, this isn't because you're not a nice guy. You're a really nice guy. And it’s not because you have an old man's name and you're only 23. I don't want you to think that either. And it's also not because I had to pick you up from your apartment. No big deal, everyone's car needs an oil change every once and a while.

We had fun, sure, after a rocky start. That thing, where you got me the cactus and told me it was the first time you'd give me the gift of life but not the last- I don't know if you say that to all the girls you go out with or what, but you should stop. Laughing after you say it doesn't even make it better, actually. It makes it way worse. But you were right, that little sushi place next to the park was great, and you were a real trooper about drinking both of the sake bombs you ordered because I forgot to tell you I was on antibiotics for the recurring throat thing I have. I've never seen someone eat that much yellowtail nigiri before and I was pretty impressed. You’re a good listener, and even though you think Yeezus is Kanye's best album I think I could have seen us taking this thing forward.

But when I dropped you off at your dad's place because he asked you for some help moving in and you invited me inside--It was sweet, of course, a really sweet gesture, but- Look. You know how, when your dad saw me on your doorstep he suddenly had a really intense coughing fit and I remembered I told my friend Julie I'd watch the new episode of Dance Moms with her...

I fucked your dad, Larry. And I know it's 2015 and I don't have to justify my choices as a woman anymore because I have agency over my body and shit, and maybe I'm being too "old-fashioned," but seriously: I fucked your dad and it ended his marriage with the woman I presume is your mom and honestly, my parents live in Arizona and the idea of us having to go there for Christmas AND Thanksgiving every year? When plane tickets are as expensive as they are? It just doesn't seem like things are going to work out between us. But anyway, thanks for the cactus, it looks really nice on my windowsill. And if you get the chance, tell your dad to call me, okay?

Best, Urethra Franklin