Dear Kumquat,
It’s me. The street. Glassell is my name, but I doubt any of you even care. I guess you’ve probably heard… my roadblocks were removed. Some say, “new year, new me.” Well I say, Boo year. Boo me. Oh, did you start your 2022 by catching Omicron? Awwww!!!! Poor you. Imagine starting 2022 by getting your face run over by hundreds of cars, over and over and over again. If you had to lay down on my surface and experience the purgatory that is having car after car drive over you without a care… you would be up in arms. Unfortunately, I don’t have arms to be up in. I can handle being stepped on by your tiny little human feet. The whole outdoor dining thing, I thought, really classed up the place, very European. But, now that’s in the past. I’m gonna miss the Laurenly van. I’m gonna misstate drunken middle aged women stumbling out of Citrus City Grille. But now, I’m back to being pummeled by those disgusting machines. I just hope that the next time you drive on me, you will finally hear my screams.
G.
