This is for you to pretend that you are Sarah Vowell and explain to me why you won’t meet me in Boston for cappuccino.
I have a crush on Sarah and I know she is in here. This will give her an opportunity to reject me in her own words without revealing her identity.
Why Sarah baby? Whhhyyyyy…? 
Hi EM, it’s me, Sarah. I really wish I could meet you in Boston for cappuccino, but, and I know this sounds a little lame, I have a totally irrational fear of being abducted by aliens. Yes, it’s true. Perhaps we’ll meet in New york, or Seattle, or even Kuala Lumpur for cappuccino – just not Boston.
Now, this is the portion of monologue where I break away from the primary narrative into some quirky personal anecdote that will seemingly not have anything to do with the opening statement, but you can bet that in the end it’ll mesh up in some funny, obtuse way. Odds are, it’ll be a story involving my awkward young adulthood, a caffeine overdose and that album by Boston with the fire spitting UFO on the cover. It will be a story that could be told in five minutes, and it might even be sort of lame, but with a few long, dramatic pauses featuring a funky bass groove in the background and maybe a few sound bites from people involved in the story, I can pad it out to twenty minutes and sound cool doing it.
This is where I bookend the story. I’ll establish the link between opening statement and quirky personal anecdote, and then before you can think to yourself “Well that’s a stretch” I’ll distract you with a piece of music by some cool, somewhat obscure band. The lyrics will have several lines that relate well with the story and you’ll think “That’s pretty clever”, and it will be.
Finally, Ira Glass will put the piece to bed while some song from that Boston album plays in the background, and It’ll be all ironic and stuff. Than you’ll make a sandwich and take a nap.
See you in Kuala Lumpur!!
Yeah… um… I’m meeting with Flansburg and Linnell that night. And the night after that too. Yes, and Thursday and Friday. Saturday too. Big secret public radio project. In fact, I’ve already said too much about it. Gottagobye.
Don’t listen to drewbert, Ex Machina! After all, Sarah Vowell would certainly know that the name is Flansburgh. And if she doesn’t, well…better off drinking your capp alone. 
Sorry dude, but I have a hot date with Bill Consonant. I reckon we’re just made for each other.
Oh, I’m sorry, but see, it’s not you, it’s me. I like you, but not in that way. I just want to be friends.
Okay?
Thank you , Sarahs. Now I can get on with my life.