last night i went to see a pre-talkie, and then there were some free beverages which kept running out – maybe because my friends and friends were drinking them like our lives depended on it. eventually our habits forced the bartender’s hand and we were given 16 ounces of the foulest blueberry-enhanced beer with 10% alcohol.
see this is how this person rolls – that’s what her shirt says if your eyes are failing you. she loves blueberry beer. i know, because i searched for her + blueberry beer.
so when i got home, at midnight-ish, my phone kept ringing from chicago. was it an old paramour wanting a trip down memory lane? no. it was some dude.
wrong number, i said!
i was like this guy.
then he called back and i kept pressing ignore. on the third time i pressed ignore w/ sms and sent him, “in a meeting. don’t know you. stop calling. i’m sleeping.”
on the fourth call back, i answered the phone:
come on man! it’s a wrong number! i’m not even in chicago, where you are calling me from, so this is just irritating, not scary.
AND, OLE! he didn’t speak english. so i used all my skills, that i learned in this book:
and said, TEA-EN-AY NOO-MEER-OH AY-QUEEV-AVOCADO! then he was all like, “oh, sorry dude. i didn’t know.” in english. whatevs.