Dear Mister Friday,

I knew you wanted something from the bar last night, so I ordered it. But you never came, so I drank it. I made a mix tape with amazing songs for you last night. I knew you ‘d have some requests. And though you never came, I still listened to them and made it.

Today I feel dirty and my hair confused. I’ll have to rock the same socks as yesterday all for the love of you and the game. I can hide my shame under my hat while an old toothbrush takes me back. That’s close enough for jazz and good enough for rock and roll.

It was only a Thursday after all. You didn’t miss anything. I only missed you.