An Open Letter to the Fleetwood Diner

Dear FD,

So, um, yeah, I just wanted to drop you this little note to say that I'm sorry about the unpleasantness. You see, I normally don't get that way, but it was my last night in town and I'd been moving all day and was pretty dehydrated, plus I had one or two more drinks than usual. Also, I haven't really drank much in July; July was bad--just take my word for it. So I was celebrating the end of that horrible, awful month too, and I accidentally overstepped my limits.

I'm honestly not even sure if you're the one I should be apologizing to, because I think that the garbage can in question might be municipal and not yours. But even so, it's right there in front of you, so you had to deal with the aroma of what I'd like to call "certified pre-owned gin" all night, and perhaps still even now. So yeah, totally sorry about that.

I'd also like to emphasize that this in no way reflects on the pancakes. I mean for starters, the first visit to the can in question happened before the flapjacks even arrived, and the return trip happened after just one bite. I don't think the one bite was a contributing factor at all. I mean, I've never had your pancakes before, but I've sat next to someone who was having them, and I remember being totally jealous because they smelled really good. In short, don't change the pancakes.

So I'm gone from Ann Arbor now and I won't get to stop by anymore, but please don't let this unfortunate incident scar the four or five other really good times we had together. I know it won't in my mind.

Sincerely,

--joe

P.S.: I know that "hippie hash" is a big seller in a college town, but that doesn't change the fact that broccoli does not belong in breakfast food. Please consider dumping it.