An open letter to the hostess with the perfect French haircut who made eyes at my boyfriend
A girl is a gun... or is she a croque monsieur?
Dear Amélie,
Do you mind if I call you by a name that is (very likely) not yours? I don’t know why I care to ask. You didn’t care about me one Friday afternoon three months ago.
You could be Jenny or Kaitlin for all I know, but the way your perfectly short …