I met a guy the other day and he seemed nice and very interested in me. He parked his car to run after me while I was walking down the street. He was cute and tall and dark and employed and, I'm just guessing here, but I think he may have loved the Lord.
So he gives me his number and we text. Boring texts. My girlfriends entertain me with stories about their long, engaging text romances. Mine never go anywhere. At this point, Sickles, which is what I have nicknamed this man, is unresponsive. This saddens me. I wanted a date to go see Admission.
I am not quite sure what I am doing wrong. I mean, should I just open up with a photo of my breasts?
Will that give the convo some amo? I mean, how many ways can you ask a person how they are doing and how their day went?
My text results are either crash and burn or when can we get naked, neither outcome I appreciate.
Old guy keeps texting me the same text over and over again: "When can we make love?"
Ewwww! You have to be in love to make love pal. Am I the only one who learned that in Sunday School? Get off my phone with this crazy! I know I started it by asking him to make out with me, but still.
I just texted Sickles. "His was your day?"
Ugh autocorrect and my fat fingers! This is why I couldn't play the violin in middle school and was stuck with the 100lbs base that I had to walk to school because it wouldn't fit on the school bus.
If anyone has a solution to my vexing texting problems, text me.
