Good morning. I received this letter on Friday, so it’s possible that the writer’s situation has already blown up in his face -- but let’s help him anyway. For those who doubt him, I Googled his e-mail address and he is who he says he is. He is, in fact, a local musician. Enjoy this one.

Alright Meredith, I have a very peculiar predicament that everyone will probably get a good laugh out of (or I am going to take a ton of flak for this). Let me start with a little background info here. It gets to the dating question eventually — just bear with it: I am moving out of my current neighborhood in Boston to a little more suburban scene with a couple friends. I was the point man for communications with our landlord and realtor during our tenure at our current apartment. The realtor came over to take pictures of our apartment for the rental website and I casually mentioned, after conversation and the realtor spotting my several guitars and keyboards/recording equipment in my room (I didn’t just bring it up, I'm not that lame), that I have been contacted by a couple local record companies about some of my songs, which is true. Fast forward to the next day. The realtor asked me if he could swing by the apartment with two girls to look at the place. They came to look at the apartment, and one of the girls and myself had a bit of a connection and started flirting while I was showing them mi casa. The realtor, out of no-where, drops a bomb that I had just signed a record deal and am moving to NYC/going on tour, which is why I am moving out. Ridiculous, but believable, so I decided to run with it. I even ended up signing an autograph for the kid!!! The two girls decided they wanted to take the apartment and asked the realtor if they could show the apt. to their third roommate later that night. The realtor couldn’t do it, so I said I will be there and swing in whenever, I will pick up beers and burgers and lets make it a party. Long story short, after several Coronas, a quick set of some of my songs on the roof deck (which overlooks the Boston skyline) and a trip to a local watering hole, we locked lips. I may or may not have dropped one of the best lines in recent man history: "How would you like to spend your first night in your new apartment?" I really didn’t think it was going to work, but "just think of the story it will make" was running through my head, classic guy flaw. Well, needless to say, it actually worked and the next morning I was tossing back and forth on just being upfront with her about this redonkulous lie while she was trying to find her pants. A lot of stuff going on here and I hope you could follow, but here's the predicament: She thinks I am moving to NYC in the next two weeks to become a rock star. I just figured nothing would seriously happen so I went along with this snowball. We have hung out several times since then and I may actually like this Chiquita. I feel real bad about having to keep this whole facade up. We have another date planned and I am wondering if it is better to know or not to know ... Quite a quandary for you Goldstein, but let me have it …

– Dread Zeppelin, Boston