This is a big decision I’m about to make here. For nearly two and a half months now we’ve been sending each other dirty text messages, planning elaborate drives to dry-hump behind liquor stores halfway between our homes, and spending quality time together every third weekend, covertly so your ex-boyfriend doesn’t find out.
This is not something I do on a whim, or just, like, for the fun of it.
I want to make you a favorite on my cell phone call bank. And I mean this from the bottom of my lukewarm, finicky heart.
And just so it’s all above-board from the start, this isn’t my first time.
I’ve placed other girls on my favorite list before you, only to see the romance quickly dissolve. There was my Alltel family “circle” or some bullshit like that four years ago. My parents said I could have two names: one was my best friend from when we were kids, the other was my college girlfriend who I guess, at the time, I didn’t know was a great big whore who found it humanly incapable to wait even one week after we broke up before hopping on the fleshy fence post of another guy who worked at the college newspaper with me.
Then there was my most recent two-year girlfriend, who I had to spend 2-3 days elaborately scrubbing from Facebook albums lest future love interests think I’m dating them because they look like her (blonde hair, blue eyes, cute Scandinavian dimples, etc). I added her to my last phone’s “Favorites” bank about a week before she decided our relationship had a better chance of persevering with us about 1,000 miles apart.
So let’s just say I’ve got some caller-ID history.
Just the other day a good friend of mine when I was telling them about you said, “Um, Dunstan, I don’t want to like add her on Facebook, man. Because it’s always awkward when I have to delete girls you make messy break ups with.”
And that’s right, babe. I make messy break-ups a thing of the probably near-future. Do you know what it’s like to have your home circled 2-3 times a night by the same Chrysler Bering with a loose hubcap? Now that’s devotion.
But, let’s not worry about that right now. Right now, I’m ready to add you to the top-6 list of “Favorites” on my HTC (which is like a cheap generic iPhone substitute with AT&T and came free with my parents’ plan, yes I’m on my parents plan and I’m 27, fuck you, we’re in a recession). And I don’t do this for the cheap convenience of expediting my randy text messages to you when I’m out drinking and thinking about your queen-bitch hotness, and vice versa.
I’m in this for the long haul, babe.
Um, or, I think my parents are talking about switching plans, so whatever comes first.