Dear Mr. Apt,

We first met about 3 months ago at the mailboxes at B.P. You told me you hate the fliers we get in our mailboxes because you always throw them away and one day you're afraid you'll throw away something important. I laughed because I was embarrassed and shy and I had a giant crush on you. I thought you were cute.

Fast forward to the end of March when I saw you getting out of your frat-star SUV, adorned with Ducks Unlimited and Kappa Alpha Order stickers. I decided to stop and introduce myself. You were wearing soccer shorts and you grabbed your balls in front of me more times than I could count. You asked for my number. You called me on my birthday like you said you would, went out with me, bought me flowers, opened doors, bought shots, stayed sober, and took me and my drunk roommate home. You were too good to be true.

It has now been 3 weeks. I spend almost every other night with you. I walk around your apartment in tiny boy shorts and barely-there tank tops. I make sure my incredible rack is hanging out all the time. I wear short skirts. I make suggestive comments. I sit on your couch with my legs wide open. Yet you never make a move. I am starting to wonder; are you gay?

I'm getting sick of it. I'm horny and I want ass. Hook up with me or leave.

Can a girl get a piece?!

Love,
Your BP Girlfriend