Stranger: Can I have your number?
Marg: (Oh god! No! No! No!) Uh... um... ha ha... um, but...
Stranger: I'd like to text you sometime, yeah.
Marg: (I don't want you to text me! Shit! Think Marg, think!) But see... I um... I don't...
Stranger: I just think you're the kind of girl I'd like to get to know. Here, let me put it in my phone.
Marg: (Okay, okay, give him a fake number. That's easy, that's not rude, he'll never know! A fake number!) PROCEED TO BLURT OUT MY ACTUAL PHONE NUMBER. (Why! Why!?!!? No!!!)
Stranger: Awesome. We'll hang out.
Marg: (No we won't!)
The above scenario has happened to me numerous times. I am incapable of coming up with the words "No, you can't have my number!" or "Sorry, I have a boyfriend". Nor am I able to think up a fake phone number on the spot. I wish that I could, because every single time a strange man wrangles my phone number away from me, the following things happen, though not always in the same order:
1) They actually call me! (How gross is that? What on earth am I supposed to say? I'm not picking up.)
2) They text me dozens of times. (If I didn't respond to you three hours ago when you asked me "What R U doin?" then why would I respond now?)
3) They call again, usually in the middle of the night. (When in the history of ever has a courtship taken this path: awkward meeting, flustered reluctant phone number given, texts ignored, call ignored, call at 3am accepted, thus booty call for the win? Never! Never in the history of ever, that's when!)
And what has never, ever happened as a result of a stranger getting my phone number? A date. Not once! In fact, I don't believe I've ever dated someone who hasn't had to sort of awkwardly ask "Oh, what is your phone number anyway?" long after we'd at the very least made out.
"Halo? Vat? I do not know thees 'Marg.' Why are you callink for thees 'Marg?' Perheps she does not want to speek with you, strange man. Ya, goot day. Dahsvedanyah, peeg."
ReplyDeleteThis should probably be what you employ immediately.