March 07, 2009
Ahhhh, yes� bombard my phone with threatening calls in the wee hours of the night hoping to ascertain the meaning of my forgotten but apparently uber-inappropriate nature.FANtastic considering my early Saturday morning meeting.
But hey! I�ll throw a thumbs up at ya for hitting a high score on the Lunachick Scale.
Brav-fucking-O.
I must admit, the first call caught me completely off guard as I was still registering the whole �wheelie over a dessert dune against a sky full of fire� dream and then I vaguely recalled the number � lotsa 3s � and in all of my confusion as to the hour and the whole, �Who would call this late unless it were important?� I picked up the phone only to be met with pure disdain and a female voice rattling questions and a demand of �stop calling my brother��
Brother? Who is this? My mind reeled and I sort of got it and, wait � dude has a sister?
I had no real idea what was going on so I just hung up.
Naturally, a bothersome state of wakefulness peeled away at my brain and there I was, being followed up with. Persistently. I sat up and stared at my phone. Seriously?
Shouldn�t I just answer? Should I just explain that I have no idea what you�re talking about and get it over with? I�m sure you�re right that I�ve committed some offense in the past ninety days considering you�re going to all this Goddamned trouble but� seriously?
I doubt the effect would make it across the lines in a coherent manner if I were to attempt to explain myself but, then again, for posterity�s sake, shouldn�t I try?
Nah, she�s just being insecure. Or drunk.
Or worse, both.
But really. What can I say? I honestly do not recall having called him and, if I did, I know it was in relation to the former situation related above. I was schluckered. Somehow, the obvious lines drawn between me just wondering if he�s thriving after battling a life-threatening illness and that of me actually inquiring were gently skewed into a fumbling mass of fingers and phone amidst an alcoholic daze.
Oops.
What have I to apologize for? He can tell me when he�s having the transplant, no worries, but I can�t ask about it later? He dropped a couple dozen friends in the past three years and they wonder all the time as they pass through every month but no one�s allowed to inquire? Come on.
Whatever dude. Calm the beast over there. If I called you or sent you a stupid text at 3 in the AM I can pretty much guarantee that I wasn�t trying to lure you into a dark cave to retain you as my personal pet forever and always � I was just checking on your pulse. I apparently decimated all evidence of contact in a shameful twitch of reality and made it so vastly important as to forget all about it the next day.
Still, it�s kinda sad that you couldn�t come up with a more charming way of relating your thoughts. Ya know, instead of having Little Miss Insecurity barking �bitch� fervently in the background like a high school cheerleader, you could have tried just telling me yourself. Of course, telling her that I did the drunk text dance probably wouldn�t have hurt either.
So, yeah, pretty sure that I�m not the one who deserves this profound role in your daytime drama so please seek out your insanity high elsewhere.
Trust me, Honey, he is ALL yours�
Sweet Dreams