Then we heard the sound of the Tardis materializing in the room. I checked, and I'd gotten a text from a random number: "Nice c-n u hope u home safe. Nite."
Not knowing who this person was, but willing to have some fun, I texted the person back with a greeting and said "How drunk are you?"
"Jimmy!!" the number replied. "does it matter?" (all typing left intact)
Then, "4get-it wild 1"
I said something about knowing they were drunk from the lack of English typing skills and Jimmy laughed.
"Lol," he said. "mis-d that class"
I offered that maybe he should stop drinking while he was ahead. This seemed to cheese him off.
"I stop all the other shit that made me money after my son. Aint stop-n anyting.!"
I realized this was getting personal too quickly, so I told him I was proud that he'd stopped that other shit for the sake of his son--that was a really great thing. Also, I was not the person he thought he was texting; "my name is Joe," I said. This name was supplied by Christina, who was in hysterics over the whole affair, and agreed we oughtn't to use real names.
"Haha sorry joe" our new friend, Jimmy, replied.
I then said something about it being no problem--I've gotten random texts from wrong numbers before, and I just think it's amusing.
"FknLOL" Jimmy agreed.
I couldn't let this go and replied in good humour with "ChknYEA" to encourage him.
Jimmy then called and left me a semi-incoherent and very alcohol-laden voicemail explaining that he didn't know what my text response had meant, but I should call him whenever I had the chance (somehow I guess my voicemail answering thingy hadn't alerted him to the fact that I was not in fact the Joe he thought he was talking to).
I then sent him a text, explaining what had happened and that I do not actually know any Jimmies, and then, for good measure, "Jesus saves." Because, as Christina said, "why not?"
Jimmy pondered this for a few moments before responding.
"K," he said. "its all good. Nite."
I thought that was the end of my weird phone adventures, but it was not.
An hour or so later Christina and I went to bed. At 3:15am my phone rang. I usually think that if someone is calling me at 3:15 in the morning, it's either going to be a really weird phone call, or an emergency phone call. Both are worth answering.
I picked up the phone. "'lo?" I said.
"Hey," said the young male voice on the other end of the line. "Do you have Tabasco?"
"No. No, I do not in fact have any Tobasco. I think you've got the wrong number."
A pause. "No. I definitely don't have the wrong number. Who are you?"
"Abby," I said, forgetting that we weren't using real names.
"Abby...?" he pushed for further information.
"Maarsch," I said, regretting it as soon as it came out.
"Don't we go to school together?" he asked.
"I don't think so," I said. He then told me his name was Dunlan or Dolan or Dexter or something like that.
The next morning I couldn't remember the name he'd told me, and all that came to mind was "Dolan." Sad day.
"Nope," I said.
He then somehow pulled me into a two minute conversation about schools in the area and whether I'd been to SRU and when I told him I graduated from Grove City he said "Ooh. Grove City sucks."
I didn't really respond with more than a grunt of acknowledgement that he had said something, and he seemed disappointed.
"Okay," I said at last. "Well, it's late, and I'm really tired, so I'm going back to bed."
"Goodnight!" he said, and hung up.
I'm thinking it was probably a friend of Jimmy's, intent on revenge or a good time. It seemed as if everything he was saying was intended to elicit some sort of reaction from me, and I wasn't giving him any of the reactions he was expecting. Luckily this seemed only to amuse him, not anger him.
And thus ends another tale of me and my cell phone.
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