Dear Norm,

Dear Norm,

I went on a date last night. Actually, it was my third date with this guy. It was fun. He likes baseball. I like baseball. You do not like baseball. He's a nice guy. He set up the TV for me so that we could sit outside and watch the game at the same time. He is also not afraid of my obsession with one Jayson Werth. He's funny. And he's cute. And short. Like you. I think we'd do okay together, me and this guy. But there's one little problem.

We started talking about our exes, and you popped into my mind. I didn't tell him about you, though. What would I say? "Hey, Jay (that's his name) -I dated this kid, right, and we had the weirdest relationship, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to love him forever. But don't worry- I like you enough to be here with you. And he didn't like baseball, so points for you."

I couldn't say that to him. So instead I just told him that one of my exes just turned into a social outcast, and he's basically like Stoop Kid, except worse. At least Stoop Kid got to go and sit outside and enjoy the sunshine and see people. You just sit in your house, do your little drugs, and mope.

He also got the Stoop Kid reference. And he gave me a stuffed koala bear. Doesn't even compare to the hippo you gave me, though.

I still hate you.
-B.