He got a text from some girl name Carrie, and she was all like, “I love your soul. Our souls should intertwine henceforth. I love our life. Please, I miss you. Darling, lover, snugglebug. Some words in spanish.” (It was very mish-mosh, linguistically).
Then. THEN. As I’m staring over his shoulder, he clicks ERASE. And the screen is all, “Are you sure you want to erase?” And he sat there staring at the Yes/No prompt for like, an hour, before he finally clicked yes, and he and I were the only ones who ever read Carrie’s over-worded plea for love and/or sexytime.
So when the screen went away, I saw this photo of a small baby as his background. The kind of baby that is sitting up by itself, but doesn’t really have any hair yet and is still just looking at the camera kind of dumbfounded, like “I don’t know how to use my face.” And MOREOVER, I happened to notice, with my unparalleled spying skills, that there was a chunky silver band on his left hand’s ring finger. I suppose you have to consider that it could just be “fashion,” which is not something I keep up with, but I mean, I have so many questions now! Is Carrie the baby mama? Is Carrie the other woman, in which case, good for you, sir, for deleting her text, but not so good for you for cheating on your baby mama? Maybe it’s not even his baby. Maybe it’s his nephew or something.
Still. I’m planning on writing a short story about him the next time I come into sole possession of a bottle of wine.
I should stop blogging about my wine habits.
And also I should stop gossip-blogging about bus strangers.
Anyway, we can all rest assured that we are having less socially stressful days than that guy. And that probably there’s no random stranger blogging about our lives right now. You’re welcome.