OH. MY. GOD.
OHMYGOD.
Oh, God....
I am totally horrified.
My face is flushed and all I can do is laugh.
You readers know I love you. And it's only because I love you that I will embarrass myself here for your benefit. Actually, not true. I embarrass myself to a lot of people.
Because if you can't laugh at yourself, you got problems.
Allow me to share.
So you remember this guy from yesterday, right?
Well, yesterday, I e-mailed this to him:
Hello Cigarette Guy -
I pulled your card out of my bag this morning. Thought I would drop you a line to see how you you are doing this morning, as I slightly overdid it last night. The red wine, not a good idea for a long night of drinking.
I got home at 3AM. I think you can imagine....
Oh, and my name is Partygirl. We weren't formally introduced. Actually, we really weren't introduced at all. Well, maybe I requested you introduce yourself in exchange for a cigarette? But I don't think I told you my name. I should probably end this ramble right now.
So, hi.
-Partygirl
*~*
And I didn't hear back yesterday. But this morning, he sends me this:
Hello.
Sorry to take so long to reply. I'm OK.
I'm sorry but I can't place you.
Those events are always sensory overload.
Boy
*~*
Let's all say it collectively: OH. MY GOD.
I started screaming in my office. People gathered. I showed them all. Disbelief and excuses were voiced. "Maybe he's playing coy," they offered.
Maybe he was BOMBED, I said.
Maybe I am a TOTAL ASS.
But I have to laugh. So I write back:
Really....
After you brandished your business card with such a flourish?
At this, I have to laugh.
-Partygirl
*~*
I hit send and have already written him off. He responds to that almost instantaneously:
You make me sound so cavalier - I feel like a fool. I think everyone was dangerous with the business cards that night. So what is X (my company) all about?
-BOY
*~*
And so I decided to break it down for him:
X is about nothing you would cover....to be quite frank. I do X PR, mainly for X and X clients. I used to work at a hi-tech agency and my co-worker from that place now works at X in SF. It was their party.
I was at the smoking table. Which you frequented. Well, you and everyone else. Cigarettes were apparently a black market commodity that night. My friend was brunette, I have short blonde hair, we were the only two people with full packs of cigarettes.
Maybe you thought the deal was a business card for a smoke? I have no idea what you were doing. But if it makes you feel any better, I'm sure I made an ass out of myself....I was screaming peoples names when they came over for cigarettes. I'm sure I screamed yours, too...
If any of this sounds vaguely familiar, feel free to let me know.
-Partygirl
*~*
This, by the way, would only happen to Partygirl. Do you have idea of the number of business cards and scribbled down phone numbers I get in a week? But NEVER, and I mean NEVER, have I initiated contact. It's just not the way I work. It they want to talk to me, they can find me. That's how I feel about it. I'd much rather be pursued. And generally, once I am pursued, I get bored.
So finally, FINALLY, I break the stupid pattern. And this is the result.
Murphy's Law. Cubegirl, do yourself a favor and go back to girls.
*~*
And this just in, Rico Suave (aka the boy we've been discussing) just e-mailed this to me:
you were at the end booth behind the bar, sitting on the outside. right?
*~*
And I replied:
It's all coming back...
*~*
Please let me know in my guestbook if you people think I should continue with this ridiculous e-mail charade or give this joker the boot.
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