The Return of the Drunk Texter

There is someone in my life that I have developed a VERY WEIRD relationship with. This person exists mainly on the outskirts of my life, as he lives several hours away and we only see each other a couple of times a year, if that. We never talk on the phone, and only occasionally do we make contact on facebook. However, he apparently feels some sort of cosmic connection with me, because he has adopted me as his "Mid Drunken Evening Point of Contact."

The first time it happened, it was both random and weird, but I assumed it was an isolated incident. During that time, I was knee deep in divorce drama and living with my parents, so the comic relief was more than welcome. That incident involved me getting an actual phone call. It was approximately 2 in the AM....very, very AM. Now, you know as well as I do that when the phone rings in the middle of the night, it's never good news. So of course, I glanced at the caller ID, saw his name, and assumed the worst. Someone must have died. There was an accident. OH GOOD LORD, WHAT HAS HAPPENED?!?! I answered nervously, shaken from my slumber with complete fear.

Me: "Hello?"

DT: "Dude, I'm totally partying with a girl you went to high school with!"

Me: (thoroughly confused...and a little annoyed) "Huh?"

DT: "Yeah...she thinks she knows you. I forget her name. Angie? Amy? Did you go to school with a girl named Amy? Or Angie?"

Me: (Now I'm just pissed.) "Uh, yeah...a few of them. Are you ok? Do you need a ride or something?"

DT: "No, I'm good. I just thought it was really cool that I was partying with someone you knew! But I guess you don't care."

Me: "Oh I do. I really, really do. Thanks for sharing."

That was over a year ago. And I guess he's gotten more considerate in his drunken correspondence, because last night the communication was downgraded to a text.

At 3:16 AM (to be exact) I get a text that says, "At the strip club with 2 of my best girlfriends...they begged me to go. Do you think less of me??"

Me: "No. I don't judge. Just don't do anything that can't be wiped off with a wet nap. Do you have a dd?"

DT: "Yeah...the girls are driving. Why are you up??? Go to bed!"

Why am I up? Well, maybe it's because you, for some reason still unknown to me, feel it necessary to alert me of your mid morning drunken shenanigans, thus sending my phone into a vibrating frenzy, dancing itself off of my nightstand and clattering to the floor. Maybe that's why I'm up. Maybe.

Me: "I'm not up on purpose. Please be safe. Enjoy the pretty boobies."

DT: "I will. Still can't believe you're up!"

Yeah. ME EITHER!

My new rule, to all of you who are paying attention...

Unless I birthed you, I have no interest in what you are doing at 3:16 in the AM. Call me heartless. Call me cruel. Call me an uncaring, boring, bitch if it makes you feel better. Just whatever you do....DON'T ACTUALLY CALL ME.

Unless I birthed you. That's the rule.