You're a pathological liar, Dam.
I'm not sure why someone would write that **** all over your car. Girls that dig me usually stuff letters under my door or hand it to someone I know who then gives it to me. Or sometimes I'll get weird phone calls that go something like this:
Ring Ring Ring
"Yeah?"
"Hi, is this Zeo?"
"Yep."
"Oh, it's WALMART SECURITY"
"Alright."
"So uh...how's it going?"
"Fine."
"Cool, cool."
"...."
"So uh...."
"...."
"I had a great time last night..."
"I bet."
"Nice weather we're having, huh?"
"Sure."
"I heard you have a cat."
"...."
"Hello? Are you there?"
"Yes, I have a cat."
"That's cool."
"Hey, I have two questions."
"Oh, okay!"
"Yeah, who gave you my number and where is this conversation going?"
"Oh...well, Jax did. It's just that I think you're a grea-"
"I'm sorry, Walmart, but I'm in a bad place right now, and I really feel like I need to be alone for a while and heal. I've been hurt, you know. It wouldn't be fair of me to expose you to my terrible, dark and yet strangely compelling past."
"Oh..I totally get it. That's exactly how I fee-"
"I'm happy you understand. See you around."
And that's why Walmart has spiraled out of control, and is now receiving love messages from other guys.