You should come see me.

We’ll make our own French wine posters

We’ll write bad checks for rent.

We’ll live next to hippies and join in their band rehearsals.

We’ll weed the tomato plants together.

We’ll help out at the homeless shelter and join the community clean-up.

We’ll pretend we don’t know about my massive inheritance (we both know there isn’t one, but we’ll act like there is, but it’s a secret…)

I wont tell anyone about our history.

You cant tell anyone about mine.

We’ll argue over whether or not something is an antique or just crap.

On freezing nights we’ll take our tiny tin-can camper up on the mountain and build huge campfires.

You’ll argue with the city council.

I’ll make cutting boards in my shop.

Saturday we’ll hold court at the local pub and have cocktails until late in the afternoon.

We’ll mark the calendar for the “Garden Tour” of Olde Town.

Local bands will dedicate songs to us.

And then Sunday you’ll go home.

Without me.