I woke up to two text messages this morning at 7:30. The first one, sent by DamascusBoy at 6:30, said “Oh, I’m thinking about you already.” Very sweet. The other was from MotorcycleInstructor, and it launched into a text message war. I’ll just put it in the form of a conversation:
His message: Sorry about last night. At hospital until 3 a.m. Buddy had bike mishap. He’s fine, no broken bones just sore and road rash. Going in class.
Me: Bullshit. You could have called.
Him: Are you serious
Me: Sure as shit I’m serious.
Him: Come on.
Me: I’m done playing games with you.
Him: I’m not playing. I’ll call you later.
Me: I won’t hold my breath waiting on that call…
Him: Baby, please, I’m tired. Up late.
I didn’t answer after that. The funny thing is that I decided last night that I should be nice until after Tuesday morning when I take the test because I still need him to show up with the bike so I can get my license. But, I’m too much of a bitch to do that. Obviously.
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