We're not friends.
No, really. I'm serious. We're not friends, and I'm not
impressed. You're like that girl in high school that everyone says is awesome
and so popular, and I just don't get it I don't see what they see. So, for now,
and I'm just being authentic here... We're not friends.
I promise, I'll try. And, honestly, I haven't given you a
fair shot since I've never crossed into the Nashville city limits...I will. I
promise. But south Nashville...sigh. It's just ok. There's nothing grandiose or
amazing. Parts are pretty. I see that. But mostly, I think you might be full of
hype. Which is funny because everyone I tell says, "oh, I LOVE
Nashville!!" Or they at least know "someone who lives there" and
they "love it." What? What is it they love?
I'm going to pretend I like you for now. LIKE YOU. Like I
like eggs. They're good for me. I crave them sometimes. But mostly, they
require some serious accoutrements to make them palatable anytime before 1am at
a Waffle House after one too many drinks. And even then, I'm there for the hashbrowns... Scattered, smothered, and covered.
Just so we're clear... We're not friends.
