Girl Flips Out At Wrong Number When She Thinks It's The Guy Who Ghosted Her
It's just so many things at once. First, it's a story of mistaken identity, of course. But it's also a commentary on generational gaps, on relationships, on the kindness or cruelty of strangers and on sleeping with a guy's best friend for vengeance.
Basically, this girl had the wrong number, and, thinking that the person she was texting ghosted her by pretending not to know who she was, she flipped out at him. His reactions are textual filet mignon.
The best part of all of this might be all the hints you get about the people in her life — like Mikey ...
... and poor Trev.
At this point the guy being texted decides to just play along for a while, because she is bulldozing through his confusion with the power of a thousand suns.
Soon, she begins to sense a change in his cadence ...
It KILLS me that the "big words" she's complaining about here are from the phrase "pretty active social life." Not one of those words has more than two syllables.
The logic-leap she takes here when he explains — again — that she has the wrong number boggles the mind.
Let me get this straight, she thinks that he is just pretending to be someone else, in order to not have to hook up with her again? She thinks that's his strategy?
He keeps insisting that she has the wrong number, but she's having none of it.
She talks about deleting him off Snapchat and Instagram with the passion and hate of a scorned lover who has just set her ex-lover's car on fire.
Then, finally, mercifully, the truth finally comes out.
Her delusion and paranoia break down only against irrefutable, concrete proof of her mistake.
Then, suddenly, he starts giving her relationship advice.
It's the weirdest context for life coaching in the history of our nation.
And he suggests she listens to Destiny's Child, as is the American custom in times of heartbreak.
Or well, it used to be. She always thought Destiny's Child was just the progeny of some lady named Destiny.
But she has a better strategy.
By the end of this, I have so much affection for Jen and all her weird, scary friends.
Goodbye, Jen. And good luck.