Boyz In Ma Phone
I rarely make a habit of "going out" to meet boys. And by rarely, I mean I have never "gone out" to meet a boy. There are many reasons for this but the biggest one is that I'm an old lady and have no desire to go out to a club, sip a cosmopolitan and dance to Rhianna while some frat boy tries to feel me up.
Inevitably, when I do go out, whether it's to a bar or a party or when I am standing on a street corner like a hooker, men sometimes ask me for my phone number. This always makes me uncomfortable because
1. I don't want to give them my phone number
2. I don't want to appear rude
3. I don't want to give them my phone number
So I say, "Why don't you give me YOUR number?" And then they do. Problem solved. I only run into complications when they say, "Okay. Now, text me so I can have yours!" And then I blink a few times and pretend I don't know what "text" means.
I always input their numbers into my phone with an alias so I can remember who they are and make a mental note to delete it later. Thing is, I never ever delete them because who on earth clears out their phone numbers?! The labeling system I use is a bit haphazard as you will soon see, but at the time, the nickname I give them makes perfect sense. Going further, it makes a TON OF SENSE after a few Tom Collins'. I never call these men, have never called these men, have no plans to ever call them, etc. but I dutifully enter their numbers in my mobile device because I FEEL BAD SAYING NO. (Hi! Yes, I'm already in therapy, thanks for asking!)
Today, I decided to go sift through the numbers in my phone and found quite a few entries that I've accumulated over the years. Some of these names I recall easily. I remember the noisy bar or the swanky party or the brightly lit street corner where I met the eager beavers. Others? Your guess is as good as mine. I'm still baffled over quite a few. REGARDLESS, I'm feeling like sharing the love so, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,
I give you:
Boyz In Ma Phone v. 1.0.
by Laura Elizabeth
Dogwalker Dave
Eric O'Jersey
Alistair
Photographer Joe
Richard Gere
Sorbet Lewis
Atlanta James
Dennis #3
Kent University
The Man
Homophobic Craig
If any of you single ladies need a phone number, I'd be glad to pass them around. Cheers!
Inevitably, when I do go out, whether it's to a bar or a party or when I am standing on a street corner like a hooker, men sometimes ask me for my phone number. This always makes me uncomfortable because
1. I don't want to give them my phone number
2. I don't want to appear rude
3. I don't want to give them my phone number
So I say, "Why don't you give me YOUR number?" And then they do. Problem solved. I only run into complications when they say, "Okay. Now, text me so I can have yours!" And then I blink a few times and pretend I don't know what "text" means.
I always input their numbers into my phone with an alias so I can remember who they are and make a mental note to delete it later. Thing is, I never ever delete them because who on earth clears out their phone numbers?! The labeling system I use is a bit haphazard as you will soon see, but at the time, the nickname I give them makes perfect sense. Going further, it makes a TON OF SENSE after a few Tom Collins'. I never call these men, have never called these men, have no plans to ever call them, etc. but I dutifully enter their numbers in my mobile device because I FEEL BAD SAYING NO. (Hi! Yes, I'm already in therapy, thanks for asking!)
Today, I decided to go sift through the numbers in my phone and found quite a few entries that I've accumulated over the years. Some of these names I recall easily. I remember the noisy bar or the swanky party or the brightly lit street corner where I met the eager beavers. Others? Your guess is as good as mine. I'm still baffled over quite a few. REGARDLESS, I'm feeling like sharing the love so, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,
I give you:
Boyz In Ma Phone v. 1.0.
by Laura Elizabeth
Dogwalker Dave
Eric O'Jersey
Alistair
Photographer Joe
Richard Gere
Sorbet Lewis
Atlanta James
Dennis #3
Kent University
The Man
Homophobic Craig
If any of you single ladies need a phone number, I'd be glad to pass them around. Cheers!
4 Comments:
I do the same thing. And I keep them in my phone forever, just in case they call me in six months, so that I'll know not to pick up the phone. Because sometimes they do call six months later. And it's kind of sad.
You are a hoot! Can you elaborate on the guy named "Sorbet"? Well, I used to HATE getting hit on, but after 3 babies, no one hits on me, and that feels WORSE! Funny post, giiiirl. JenK
Laurie--It IS sad. Poor boys.
Jennifer--See here. for Sorbet Guy.
Great work.
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