Texts Gone Wild

Anyone involved in the bar culture scene would be a liar if they said they didn’t look forward to waking up the next morning after a binger and checking their phone for entertaining text messages from the night before.  We all do it.  These messages from friends, fauxs, strangers and unfortunately, sometimes family members…are what truly make our nights that much better.  They allow for our forgettable actions to become unforgettable events in our lives that we have documented for as long as our phones shall live.

I not only enjoy the text from the night prior, but also the random text received the next day.  These next day texts generally come from those who seem to believe we made some type of “love connection” the night before.  I suppose this has become a black-out hobby of mine considering that I manage to give these poor lads my real number but not my real name.  Exhibit E for example:

Exhibit E: Fake Name Incidence #1.  I don't even know how to correctly spell "Madelin" but I do know that is NOT how you spell to.  T-O.  Two fucking letters.  Is it really that difficult to text two letters instead of texting numbers like a 5 year old?  I'm not fond of the whole numbers instead of words thing.  The worst part, I vaguely remember this character.  He caught me smoking a cigarette on my stoop right after I got home from my company holiday party.  He was dressed in a reindeer costume.  He told me Santa wouldn't want me to smoke.  I told him, "that's nice but you're not Santa you're just a fucking reindeer."  I shouldn't have done that.  He then invited himself to tell me his ENTIRE life story while I smoked my cigarette.  He's a teacher.  A TEACHER AND HE CAN'T TEXT THE WORD TO!?!??!?!  To get him to leave I gave him my number and a fake name that I use regularly.  A week after the text above, he actually called me.  I disguised my voice and told him he had the wrong number.  He proceeded to apologize and tell me, a stranger who he accidentally dialed, all about the night he met "Madelin" and how incredible their conversation was and that he was drunk and wearing a reindeer costume when they met.  He wanted to take her out for a real date.  I said, "Wow.  What.  A.  Bitch.  Sorry dude."

I guess I didn't learn my ways, as Exhibit F displays:

Exhibit F: Fake Name Incidence #2...I just couldn't accept a date offer knowing that I lied to this poor guy about my name...and because it was after 2 A.M.  I'm no spring chicken.  Post 2 A.M. text = bootayyyy call...this leads to the next segment of Texts Gone Wild...

Exhibit G: Creepiest booty call text I have ever received.  I met this character at the Verizon store earlier that day.  I had to take my sister there for a new phone.  This guy was working.  He put up with us for about an hour.  That in it of itself is incredible.  Later that night, outside one of my regular spots while enjoying a cigarette, he stood right there on the other side of the ropes.  I said, "hello again," and we engaged in friendly conversation.  We exchanged numbers and went our separate ways.  After a few more Jameson shots I took out of my phone and laid eyes on the worst attempt at a booty call I have ever seen.  Actually no, that's a lie.  Exhibit H below may be the worst booty call attempt to date:

Exhibit H: When your best dude friend decides to pull an Ozzy Osbourne and black the fuck out so hard that he actually believes protesting his fake love for you will get you to come over for a booty-call.  Awesomely rad and ridiculously hilarious now.  But then...astoundingly creepy and wayyyyyy awkward.  We're still BFF.  We still wake each other up to texts such as this...

Exhibit I: The best part about this text...I woke up butt ass naked.

Aside from giving out a fake name and receiving booty-call requests, I thoroughly enjoy carrying on conversations with individuals that take the plunge into...sober texting.  I generally don't remember these characters, but when they text I'm sober, bored, and need to be entertained.  Exhibit J take it away!

Exhibit J: This character just didn't know what he was in for.  When I received his text on a solemn May evening of 2011, I was bored as shit and decided that fucking with a stranger would alleviate my ailment.  The conversation began with the character asking me "What's up?" and me replying with, "Battling Ninjas bro."  Like a good sport, he played along.  He had a response for every one of my ridiculous non-sense texts.  Soon enough, he grew tired of the horseplay and moved straight to the point.  He was trying to ask me out.  Not knowing what to do or how to really respond without sounding like an asshole, I figured that honesty was the best policy.  When he did tell me his name and when we met I felt like a huge asshole.

The worst ones though are the ones that legitimately ask me out or genuinely want to converse.  I can't help but be an asshole...

Exhibit K: No Response.

Exhibit L: No Response...but at least he scored my real name!

Exhibit M: No Response and he tried for a solid two weeks.  I'm an evil bitch.

Exhibit N: Well, I responded.  But this shit is crazy girl status.  Where is your penis?

Exhibit O: My Favorite.  Responded.  Boom.

From now on I'm going to start utilizing the tricks of the wiser.  Please take the time to admire Exhibit P below.  Brought to you by one of my older and wiser sorority sisters who may very well be the funniest bitch I know...

Exhibit P: Best Auto Response Ever

Exhibit P is a sure way to keep clear of the fake name fatalists, horny ass booty-callers, sober texters, and hopeless romantics.

Lesson learned: If you want to continue giving your real number out while intoxicated, make sure you're auto response protected.

Peace.

- TBR