[Editor's note: Originally I took these pretty screenshots of the exchange below from my phone, and inserted them into the post, and felt super proud of myself. But then I had an attack of conscience, like I was taking pictures of a stranger's soul or something, and so I decided just to retype the exchange. Yes, I know there's no difference. Shut up.]
I'm in Barbados right now (and if you read this blog and know where I live, please don't take this as an opportunity to go rob my apartment), learning to surf, with mixed results. First day was great in that newbie "oh my god, I can't believe I actually stood up!" kind of way, second day not so good in that "what happened to all the progress I made yesterday, I suck" kind of way, and now I can barely move. More on that some other time.
Meanwhile, last night I checked my phone and saw that I had four text messages from a number I didn't recognize. They read thusly:
I'm hurt that your avoiding me.
Seriously, [name redacted]. You have me crying and I never cry. Ttyl
Do you want to be with me?
Apparently you don't want too talk to me. Or be with me.
At first I was confused. Then bemused. Then I mostly felt bad for this girl/woman (for simplicity's sake let's just assume the sender of these texts is female). Let's face it, we've all been there. I thought about letting it go, and sparing this person the embarrassment of knowing that she'd been baring her soul -- or at least her insecurities -- to a stranger.
But then I thought, if I were her, I'd want to know that the guy hasn't been ignoring me... right? Maybe he really does want to be with her. He's not blowing her off! Maybe I could save their relationship.
So I texted back:
Hi, I'm really sorry but apparently you have a wrong number; I don't know who [name redacted] is. Just wanted to let you know. Good luck to you.
Her response:
Sorry.
Me:
No problem!
Her:
Exactly what have I said too you today?
Have I been texting you all day? If so I'm so sorry.
Interesting. Let's leave aside the fact that, though she seems to be in a relationship with this guy, she doesn't have his number saved in her phone. I read her response and thought, wait, was she drunk when she sent those earlier texts? Does she not remember sending them? She sent them in the early afternoon, and you'd have to be hitting the bottle pretty early in the morning to be drunk by 12:48 pm.
But upon further reflection, I guess she just wants to know which of her texts made it to me and not him. (I'm going to have to guess "all of them," unless she redialed the number later.) I'm also surmising that she is, indeed, mortified. As I certainly would be.
I told her what she'd texted, and said not to worry about it -- better me than him, right? And then I asked her not to text me anymore, as I'm out of the country and have to pay roaming fees. That's not the absolute truth; I bought an international texting plan that allows for 50 texts. But as this little exchange took up 10 of those texts, and as I could easily see it evolving into a situation where I start counseling her on her love life, I thought it best to put a crisp end to the whole thing.
Hmm, there's an idea. A text-advice service. Think it would work?
I hope those two kids work it out. I'm resisting the urge to text her when I get home and ask how things went; we'll just have to imagine the ending to this story ourselves. Personally, I think they'll patch things up. I hope they do, even though I know nothing about them. Ah, young love as interpreted via a stranger's texts.
