hung over dialedA Story by Philip GaberIt was 7:45 am. I hung over dialed. I knew I shouldn't have done it, but who can argue with my
id? Amazingly, she picked up. She cleared her throat and said, "Hello?" without
an attitude. "It's only me..." "Hey..." "Look it, I don't have any reason for acting like I did
tonight. Quite frankly, I was sexed up. I was horny as s**t. That's the
truth." "Okay." "So I was never a Navy Seal...I don't even swim...I was
also never a Secret Service agent...I don't even own a weapon...what was the
other thing I told you?" "F.B.I psyop." "I'm not an F.B.I. psyop-" "A screenwriter, beloved by Steven Spielberg and Martin
Scorsese..." "I'm not that, either..." "Dog food taster, Professional mourner, Professional
sleeper, Snake Milker, Crime Scene Cleaner, Professional Cuddler, Dog
Psychologists, Golf Ball Diver..." "Yeah, I'm sorry, I've never been any of those things.
I was just trying to impress you." "By telling me you were a snake milker? Why would that
impress me?" "I mean, you could have been a herpetologist. How would
I know?" "Okay, I'm gonna go." "Wait, before you go. Was there anything remotely
interesting, that's the wrong word...would anything I would have...were you
horny for me? At all? Or was I just this jagoff, pot-smoking loser...oh, I'm
also an open miker." "A what?" "Tryna be a comedian, so I go to many open mikes. You
try out your material and see how the audience reacts. That kinda s**t." "Okay, well, that doesn't impress me either. Are you a
good man? Are you kind? Will you listen to me and refrain from offering any
solutions? Can we laugh and have fun together? Are you any sort of provider?
Will you protect me? Take me to doctor's appointments? Smile at and with me?
Laugh at and with me? If you're at least that...I suggest going out on a date
with you. I'm not gonna sleep with you. I'm not ready for that. I'll consider
it, but I'm not tumbling into bed because you're a golf ball diver." "Well, now, that's a transferrable skill. Muff
diver?" There was a silence. Why do I always blow it with women at this stage? Muff
diver? Jesus Christ, stop those references to Penthouse letters when I was 14
years old. "I'm going back to bed." She was done with me. Who could blame her? "Good night," she said. "Can I call you next week?" "You can call me as long as you never mention that
you're a professional cuddler ever again. EVER again." "I will not." "Have a good night," and she hung up. "Thanks, I...will. Have a good night, baby." © 2024 Philip Gaber |
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Added on August 20, 2024 Last Updated on August 20, 2024 AuthorPhilip GaberCharlotte, NCAboutI hate writing biographies. I was one of those kids who rode a banana seat bike and watched Saturday morning cartoons and Soul Train. But my mother would never buy any of those sugary cereals for us k.. more..Writing
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