Irritable Male Syndrome

Wednesday, March 30, 2005

Penis Girl--Part II

A few minutes ago I received a phone call from a number in the 763 Area Code that I didn't know. That indicates the number is west of Minneapolis. As a general rule, I never pick up my phone when I get a call from an unknown number. Call it paranoid if you want...well, that's exactly what it is. I just don't feel like getting surprised by a long lost ex-girlfriend that's an ex-girlfriend for a reason.

A few seconds after the call ended, my phone buzzed indicating that I had a voicemail waiting for me. Hesitantly, I dialed "1" to reach my voicemail inbox. When I heard the voice on the other side, I still had no clue who the call was from.

There was mumbling and laughing, followed by a girl-like voice saying "What do I say?" directed at someone in the background on the other end. Immediately after that, the caller hung up.

My best guess is that this is the girl from William's on Friday night, but it would've at least helped for her to, oh, I don't know, leave a legitimate message. Or, at the very least, a name. I'm not a mind reader. I remember the girl from William's having a 651 number, I think, which is based in St. Paul. I may be wrong about that, though.

5 minutes after the weird-o voicemail, I received a text-message from the same number.

"Hey dude whats up."

This is where I started doubting the Penis Girl theory. Girls, if you really wanted to hang out with a guy, would you call him "dude"? And would you freak out when you first try calling him and hang up before leaving message? Come on, every cell phone on the market today comes with Caller ID as one of the standard options.

I don't think there's any way I'm calling her back.

Penis Girl--Part III

After much deliberation by a jury of one--me-- I decided to be a man for once and do it myself. That's right, I waited until I was partially buzzing last night at the bar, and text-messaged back "Who *is* this?"

Such testerone coursing through my veins, I know.

I got no response last night, though. It wasn't until this afternoon that the person behind the number responded with "Carrie".

Great, so the William's Girl is named Carrie. We've got that set straight. I didn't remeber it being Carrie, but that means nothing. I forget even the names of cute girls--names that I want to remember, and that I'd forget a creepy girl's name, well, that's understandable. The odd thing is this--I know that she lived over in St. Paul and her cell number had a 651 or 952 area code. Why, then, would she be calling me from a 763 number? That's on the exact opposite side of the Twin Cities. It just made no sense.

After work today, I found out why. Sort of.

I had just come back downstairs after eating and noticed that I had one new text-message from a 612 number, which is for in and around Minneapolis proper. Hesitantly I checked my message, half expecting Carrie to be watching me from through little screen on the inside of my phone. I was confused by the area code switch-a-roo, but why would a crazy person ever start making sense? Luckily it was just a plain, benign text-message. Or was it?

"Just writtin' to wish *u* a happy early birthday...How's billy?"

I didn't change a word in that, and that's exactly how it was written. Funny, I intentionally shied away from telling the girl from William's anything about me. And just how she would know that my birthday is in a little over a month, and that my mom goes by the name "Billie" is beyond me.

"Just writtin' to wish *u*..."

That *u* thing struck me in a strange way. Like it was being emphasized, and I was supposed to be wishing this person that I thought I knew, but really don't know, a happy birthday, too, at some point.

OH FUCK! No-fucking-way. It can't be. There's no there?

When I was 19, I dated a girl named Carrie Jo. We shared the same birthday, and my mom, Billie, was crazy about her. And Carrie Jo was a pro at kissing my mom's ass. The whole relationship ended in a screaming match after she called me a dumbass, in front of my mom of all people. She was serious, too. I haven't even wanted to say one word to her since.

Just how the 612 text-message was worded makes it glaringly apparent that she's trying to track me down again. So, this part of the mystery being solved, I'm now on a mission to find out how my crazy, stalker ex-girlfriend got the number to this cell phone. This isn't the first time she's tracked me down, and I know it won't be the last.

But wait--what about the 763 number? Who's that then? ANOTHER GIRL NAMED CARRIE?

This time I had my friend Dawn call both numbers because I'm sick of trying to be a man, and it's she confirmed that I have two crazy Carries on my hands. Not one, but two. Not three. Two.

How in the hell I am supposed to cope with shit like this? I'm surprised that I'm not drunk already.

Part IV--It just keeps getting worse

10 minutes after I had all of this written out and thought, mistakenly, that I had everything figured out, Penis Girl just called me from a 952 number.

Her name is Bev! And that's not even close to Carrie! She called to ask me out for a drink sometime, and I must admit, after all this a drink sounds pretty good. Especially with a girl that the likelihood of playing touchey-feely is high. I need some sort of stress relief, damn it!

So, the real mystery is who's the 2nd Carrie? Is it the same as the first Carrie? Is the ex trying to confuse me by throwing different numbers, friends and voices into the mix?

This is just plain nuts.


At 6:50 AM, Blogger Chris Halverson said...

Awesome. I love this. Us married guys have to live vicariously through you guys. Keep it up!

At 6:45 AM, Blogger Huge Junk said...

Dude, you can't go out with a girl named "Bev". What if she gains weight? How are you going to keep yourself from calling her Heavy Bevvy?

At 10:55 AM, Blogger Drizztdj said...

Bev does sound weight-enhanced.

Ask her if she could change it to Bunny or something more light and fluffy.


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