My Dearest Yogorino,
When I first saw your awning in the dead of winter I was immediately overtaken with a sense of warmth by the fact that you were coming to Philadelphia. Dissapointed by cheap floozies like Phileo and the muck they serve at the Old Nelson Deli I was giddy with thoughts of your arrival. I knew you would be different - classy, sexy, pro-biotically enhanced, and delicious.
I would walk by you everyday on my way to/from work as you teased me with your awning unfurled. I knew what you were doing - your subtle invitation for me to sample your delicious goodies. I would approach you only to be denied when I found your doors locked and lights off.
People in the neighborhood started to talk. They called you names, said terrible things. But I defended you. Despite alienating myself from my friends and families I defended you.
The months rolled by and no clues or hints as to your arrival - just your silly games teasing me.
I'm finding it hard to defend you.
Yogorino, I don't think I can continue to live like this.
I've had too many sleepless nights thinking of you, Yogorino.
When I do sleep I dream of you, Yogorino. I dream of your creaminess oozing out of the spout and into my cup. Me taking my spoon and delicately inserting it into your mound of creamy deliciousness. Heaping spoonful after spoonful entering my mouth. Never with any toppings - I know how much you like it raw.
I've been patient with you Yogorino - maybe too patient.
You've worked me into a frenzy these past few months. I think it's time I find a new route to walk to/from work for it's too painful to bear the pain of an unfulfilled relationship.
Yogorino, you had me at hello and yet you deny me the sweet creamy love that you promise.
Yogorino, you used to be my shorty but I think you're about to get served.