Dear john.

Yeah.

I stalked you.

That's right.

And if felt fucking good.

You were stopping to talk to a trick.  I pulled up beside you and took a good look at the scum of the earth in his 2012 Chrysler Sedan.

I saw your face.

I saw our 65 year old, bald headed, turkey necked face.

The next best thing would be to get your license plate.  I don't know why, but I just felt like really getting good information about you.

When I got to the stop sign, you pulled up behind me very slowly.  My instincts told me that you knew what I was up to.

I decided to test the theory.  I drove down Broadway at 30km, hoping you'd pass me so that I could get your plates.

You knew.

You wouldn't pass me.

People would pass the both of us and give me the finger, because I was the problem.  But you chose to continue driving my pace, for fear that I'd get your information.

Instead?

When we got to a red light, I would hold my phone up and take pictures of your car from behind me.

I didn't care if I was being obvious.  You already knew what I was up to.

But I'll tell you, just the fact that you didn't pass me going down that busy throughway for 20 blocks was pure bliss.

Did I scare you?

I sure did mother fucker.

I never did really get your plates through my overt picture taking.  However, there was one really fun part about this whole cat and mouse game that made up for it.

When I finally had to turn down my intended street, I decided that the game was over.  I had better things to focus my energy on.

But watching you speed past me as fast as you possibly could so that I couldn't get your face or plates on my camera was awesome.

It was like no other feeling.

This little femme scared the shit out of you.

This little femme had you worried for your anonymity's welfare.

To all the other johns out there: ...

... and yes, i didn't capitalize 'john' because you don't deserve it ...

... You are seen.  Don't pretend that you're not.

To my family member who I once saw chatting up his next fuck:  I saw you too.

I may not have the proof I need to share the information about you and your paid victim, but I saw you.

To all the lovely ladies out there who are the exploited of these mother fuckers:  I see you as well.  I hope for peace for you one day.

all the things i need and want come to me