Ring, Ring... Oh Crap!

Spitty-lipped old man who wouldn't leave me alone Tuesday night called me yesterday. Ick. Unfortunatly, I had given him my card as we were standing in a group at the beginning of the evening and there was some card exchanging going on. It was early. He wasn't drunk yet. He hadn't kissed my neck with his disgusting, old, spit-laiden, wrinkly lips yet. He seemed harmless and I thought nothing of it. Big mistake.

I was waiting for the bus after work and my cell rang. I had been doing a little Valentines Day prep work for the man earlier in the day and was expecting a call regarding those festivities. When I saw the Miami area code, I thought it was the guy I was expecting to call, so I cheerfully answered. "Hello? this is Melissa!" "Mayleessa, hello darrrleeng. How are yew?" Accent was the same as the expected guy. Voice tone was the same. I still thought it was the expected guy. "Yew know who dees ees?" "Yes, of course I do. Thanks for calling!" it certainly sounded like the expected guy, so of course, I knew who it was. "Oh good, yew reeemembar me. Ay had satch a good tayim weeth yew lass nigh." All the blood drained from my face. I couldn't believe my ears. It was like he was right next to me, with his bad breath and his old man pants.

He actually had the crusty old man balls to ask me to a party tonight. Is he insane? Probably. I said, no, thanks for the invitation, but I wouldn't be accompanying him anywhere. His response? Get this, I wish I were making this up, "Oh, yew reelly do haff boyfren den, huh?" No, jackhole, I was totally kidding about it. I love playing hard to get with men older than my father and no taller than me. It gives me such a rush. Better than sex. Better than chocolate and peanut butter. "Yes, I do. He's a very handsome, big, strong guy. I'm going to hang up now, please don't call again."