One cold as fuck February night in Chicago in 1999, I went to my old apartment at Fullerton and Kedzie to watch the movie “Ran” with my friend and old roommate Kelli, who still lived there. Around 3 a.m. I stumbled out to my car, full of war-fatigue from the movie, and thinking all kinds of intense thoughts about the book I was working on about a Vietnam vet. A light snow had fallen. On my car’s windshield, I found this note– apparently a case of mistaken Toyota Camrys. Poor Mario– catching blame when he was probably at work and not with this other girl. I thought it was a pretty amazing love note, though, really: Amber, trying to be all full of bitterness and bile, but giving herself away with her sweet coda– page me later.