I haven’t spoken to Bland Text Man since our flacid “conversation” over Thanksgiving (I neglected to report this instance), where I attempted to sort of bond by discussing hunting (This is a topic I am neither well-versed in or highly interested in…at all. My idea of hunting gear is a camouflage clutch for a hint of “edginess” during a night on the town. Meh.).
Now, over Christmas, while I was updating my phone, I accidentally restored it. No big deal right? All one has to do in said situation is sync the previous phone’s backed up information to the “new phone.” Except in said situation, it is assumed that the owner of the previous phone had actually backed up the information. Which I didn’t. So I lost all of my contacts and proceeded to post an emergency SOS facebook status urging friends/family to text me or message me their numbers or the world would end.
And here’s where I get to my point: I no longer had BTM’s number. Easy way out. Yessss.
BTM texted me a few days after Christmas. I’ll give you one guess as to what he said. It’s really unique and you probably won’t guess it.
BTM: Hey! What’s new?
If I had a nickel…
Now, I knew right away it was BTM based purely on his modern and intelligent discussion abilities. But just to be sure, I googled the area code. Bingo.
I never responded.
Then, just yesterday, he texted me again.
BTM: Hey! What’s up?
At this point I had this horrible feeling that I wouldn’t stop receiving such intricately phrased communication until I severed communication. This guy just doesn’t seem the type to “get a hint.”
So I responded.
Me: (several hours later) Sorry who is this? I accidentally restored my phone and lost all my contacts. (I have this problem where I can’t lie and tend to elaborate on meaningless details. Could’ve just as easily cut off the second sentence. My hindsight is 20/20.)
BTM: (less than a minute later) Bland Text Man (name shall remain unnamed)
Me: How are you? (Strategy #1: maintain boredom…perhaps he’ll go away on his own.)
BTM: Not to bad. Busy busy but I can’t complain. You? (Oh fuck. Here it goes again. OVER A MONTH HAS GONE BY AND THAT’S ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY. Please excuse me while I take a quick nap and drool myself into oblivion.)
Me: (many hours later) Busy here too but life’s really good! (Really, really good. Because I thought you got the hint and were leaving me alone. Go away. Please. Pretty, pretty please.)
BTM: Good to hear! Dating anyone? (Yes. Jake Gyllenhaal actually just left my apartment this morning. We did a little horizontal salsa and are madly in love.)
Me: Not seriously, no. I’ve really just been focusing on work and my show. (Remember that problem I have with lying? Yeah…should’ve just said “yes.” The beast would’ve been laid to rest immediately. What the hell is wrong with me?)
BTM: When is the show?
I have yet to respond. Notice how I didn’t reverse the question and ask if he’s dating anyone. Because, well, I just don’t care.
This is becoming a bit of a leech situation. As an outsider looking in, I would have rephrased every single one of my responses. But, alas, when it comes down to it, I am a blubbering fool who feels an unnecessarily high level of guilt if I even dream of making someone feel bad.
I need a drink.
- An illusion of drunken confusion … (thedaftdiaries.com)
- My New Year’s Travesty….. A Night to Forget. (10thingsihateaboutmyex.wordpress.com)
- Texting (abbysisland.wordpress.com)