Page 4 of Wrong Number, Right Grump
Neither. But I would remove Bust Your Windows. That’s a vibe killer and could be used against you in a court of law if you know... you decide you need some revenge therapy.– unknown number
“Oh my god,” I whisper. “He can’t help himself.”
My fingers fly across the on-screen keyboard.
“Are you... texting him back?” Darby asks.
“No.” I barely glance up as I continue to type.
Who am I kidding? I totally am.
That’s emotional whiplash. Are you going to die on that revenge therapy sword? Who hurt you?– Lola
There’s a pause. Long enough for me to start doubting my life choices and whether this message thread will end up on Reddit or some wild girls’ podcast.
Then—
Not sure, but I think I just took a hit for men everywhere.– unknown number
I let out a startled laugh. Okay. He has a sense of humor.
Damn. Didn’t know I was capable of emotionally wounding a man with a voicemail.– Lola
Marginally scraped, not mortally wounded.– unknown number
I grin. Wide.
This man is a menace. Quick to critique, but amusing and slightly... charming?
Who are you? A cross between the Grinch and Mr. Rogers?– Lola
Someone who didn’t expect his Friday night to include a four-minute plus monologue about boobs, betrayal, and burritos.– unknown number
Yep. Grumpy, but I did unfairly intrude on his evening. Still, I stand my ground.
You know nothing about me or the man-child who totally deserves a hot burrito to his balls.– Lola
Another pause.
Then—
Don’t know man-child Chad, but it does have a nice ring to it. BTW I’ve saved you in my contacts as Drama Queen in case you need to vent in the future.– unknown number
My mouth drops open. “He did not.”
Darby perks up. “What? What happened?”
“He called me a drama queen.”
She snorts. “He’s not wrong.”
I fall dramatically onto the sofa. “I’ve become some guy’s winning bar story. I’m destined to die alone with cursed Spotify recs and zero chill.”
My phone buzzes again.
Shame to sacrifice good Mexican food.– unknown number
I snort.
