I have to stick with my plan to never, ever answer calls from numbers that I do not recognize.
On Thursday night I went down to Christopher Street, as I am known to do, and as I am also known to do I gave my number out all willy nilly whenever I was asked. There was this one man who I might have possibly kissed but at the end of the night it was the kind of thing one might be ashamed of and even wish would be erased from the memory. Now there are plenty of men that I meet that I really want to call me, to possibly develop our little intimate moments into something more but of course these men never do call. However, the ones that I wish would just forget they ever saw my face call constantly, verging on harassment even. So the aforementioned kisser has been calling and has somehow managed to figure out how to mark his voice messages “urgent” which is simultaneously humorous and kind of scary. Honey, there is nothing urgent between us given that I’ve only been in your presence ever for about twenty-five minutes. Damn!
Tonight I’m planning on going out and gonna try to be a little more Hilary Duff* than Lindsay Lohan, if you know what I mean.
*Her CD is entitled “Dignity” whereas her rival’s is entitled “Raw”. Mmm hmm.