I've had some time to think about things. We've had a lot of fun together, you and I, but I guess I've just got to put this out there...
I think I need to see other breakfast options.
When you're good, you're really, really good. Sometimes amazing. But those times have been few and far between, and I expect the best of you here in this great state. I mean, this is your stomping grounds. It's where you came from.
You were certainly stunning (even after breakfast hours) in Blanco, leaving any lusty thoughts of an on-the-road, one-morning-stand in Wallace, Idaho behind (I was just passing through, on tour with this rock band from Seattle... no hard feelings). But you've been distant of late. Inconsistent. A little sloppy. If we only see each other infrequently, I want those meetings, those delicious liaisons, to be fireworks and waving flags, and cholesterol tests be damned. I want to wake up with you, start the day with you.
I'm sorry, Texas chicken-fried steak. Unless you can show me that you want to be with me for breakfast on the regular, I'm going to have to move on.
Wondrous homemade bread cast a breakfast pall on you, Sysco CFS