Futuristic Words

I was minding my own business, hanging out at a karaoke bar with Soul and Big Business, when I received a text from an unknown San Francisco number:

“What u up to? U should come over! Xxo”

Moments before I had huddled over my beer with my colleagues and decried a woman who I had wanted right up until the moment when she threw herself at me. That said, this was something new and unknown, a number a.) I hadn’t bothered to copy or b.) I had deleted because the fuse was too long, and I refused to play any phone games. I generally give  about two or three phone calls, more if she’s exceptional or if we have a powerful connection, before I stop torturing myself by deleting the number.

Anyway, it’s a high quality problem. Some girl booty-called me, and I have no idea who she is.  Son of a bitch.