No, this is not my 17 week belly pic.
Weirdo: I'm pregnant and it's yours.
So my first thought was, this is amazing; I love my life. My second thought: my husband's phone number is only one digit different from mine. After checking in with him, he assured me that he always wraps his stump when he taps some strange, so we're good.
Me: Uh, I'm a girl, so I don't think that's likely.
Weirdo: I love you. Baby, come back to me.
Me: Okay, who is this?
Weirdo: De'Ryan.
Me: This has got to be a joke.
Weirdo: Baby, you don't remember me? I'm the sexy one with the big wiener.
So this is a turning point in the conversation. I considered the possibility that continuing the dialogue might earn me a picture of a big wiener on my phone. After also considering the entertainment this is providing me in my current catatonic state, I decided to take the risk.
Me: How can you be pregnant if you have a wiener? Is this the Asian guy from Oprah?!
Weirdo: Yeah, how'd you know?!
Me: Omg I'm totally calling Star magazine and telling them the Asian guy from Oprah had an affair and got knocked up again.
Weirdo: omg
Me: Right. Now go tell your parents they probably shouldn't let you have unlimited texting.
Weirdo: What? Why?
And here I get bored again. Clearly latchkey hipster junior high homebody did not understand the value of witty banter. He/she was not carrying his/her weight. Unless this was Rachel pranking me. In that case, thanks for the momentary distraction.
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