Dear Dennis,
You don't know me well, but I've been an admirer of yours for some time now. I look for you every time I go shopping, but rarely do I see your tattooed arms and slicked-back hair. The first time we met I was rushing back to work from my lunch break and as I collected my protein bar and bottled water you winked at me, sending my heart all aflutter. After weeks and weeks of looking for you at the Express Check-out line, we met again! You were singing softly under your breath, and when I asked if you were in a band, you replied, "I am." "Do you sing," I asked, kicking myself for stating the obvious, when you answered, "I sing, and I also play the sax and sometimes drums." Just when I had gotten my heart rate down, you got serious with the customer in front of me. What was he saying? Something about the organic goat cheese? I thought I would melt into a warm puddle on the floor when you began discussing organic food and the perils of corporate farming...can we ever be, the two of us? If you would like to meet, I'll be waiting for you between the Australian Shiraz and the Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc next Friday at 1pm- you know the aisle. I have short hair and hazel eyes. That's all you need to know. See you next Friday, my love.

Yours Truly,
Stacey