Oh, Freddy. I didn't want to believe all those rumors about you, but they're true, aren't they? I just thought my friends were jealous. After all, none of them ever got to wrap their arms around a catch like you. Now I see that they were trying to warn me, Freddy. Trying to warn me about what you are... a no-good, love 'em and leave 'em play-boy who has no regard for the feelings of even his most intimate partners. Well, I'm done crying over you, Freddy P. I'm just a Z-snap and a new haircut away from forgetting you 4-ever.

I can't believe I had to find out the way I did. Rhonda didn't want to tell me herself. She's such a sweetheart, always looking after my fragile, little heart. Oh, but I would have rather heard it from her instead of having to read it in the damn newspaper, Freddy! Yeah, you're a real class act. You came to Seattle and you didn't. even. tell me.

What's wrong, Freddy? Did Congress just pass a new law to make the phone service only go East? Maybe you just didn't want to call me because you knew you wouldn't be here alone. It's a big city. Chances are you wouldn't even run into me, and you didn't. Lucky for you, Fred, because a wall of Mack trucks wouldn't have stopped me from giving you a piece of my mind. Hell, you've already taken so much of my heart.

When you and your friends did your little song-and-dance at Garfield High School, did you think of how we met, Freddy? That hot night in Havana, sipping on a light cerveza with a slice of lime, I watched you do your Liza routine to an enchanted crowd. Later, you sat next to me at the bar. You still had some of your mascara on your lashes. C-U-T-E. I slipped you my card and wrote the name of my hotel on the back. Your mouth said no, but your eyes said absolutamente. I wasn't surprised when I heard you knock-knock-knocking on my door later that night.

But we ain't in Havana anymore, Freddy, and I sure as hell ain't in Kansas. Wish I could say the same for you. Yeah, I could think of a few places I'd like you to go. Next time you drag your sorry (but perky) behind to Seattle, you better stay on your side and I'll stay on mine. And just remember that whatever little boy-toy you're tugging around on that leash you call a heart, he ain't got half of what I gave you.

I hope you're having fun with your slick, new website. You must be raking it in now. Of course, the cost of living in the flyovers is pretty forgiving. You never were the more cultured of the two of us, Freddy. You weren't quite a philistine, though I could think of at least one biblical city you wouldn't mind calling home. Speaking of websites, I'll have you know that I've respected your wishes concerning those photos de boudoir you were worried about. Don't fret, Freddy. I'm not that petty. Oh, I haven't deleted them, though. No, I think I'll keep the series with the French maid uniform. Just because you're a jerk doesn't mean you haven't been blessed with generous gams.

Go with God, you sorry queen. And enjoy the Topeka Pride Parade. I'm sure you'll be trotting out that tired cowboy routine of yours. Again.