Well, we dated a few times in high school then kind of lost track of each other. He was a bit strange, even then. We'd go for a walk along the river, or perhaps shopping in the city, and talk and talk. Well, I wanted to talk, but he'd interrupt all the time with these irrelevant comments, or making fun of something I'd just said. Yeah, it was cute at first, but, you know: When you're trying to get a serious point across and all someone can do is wise-crack, it wears you down. It just felt like he wasn't paying attention to what I was trying to say; he just wanted to think up the next wise-ass comment. Always wanted the last word. I dumped him in the end. He didn't take rejection too well.
We met again after college. I was amazed how much he'd matured; I hardly recognised him at first. I was in the library, browsing the Self Help section, and he was on the other side in the Harm Others shelves. I pulled out a copy of Stanley Bulowski's Pull Yourself Together, Woman and there he was.Evil Editor was only the second man I ever saw naked. Unfortunately, I was still married to the first at the time. The whole experience was very traumatic. I really don't want to talk about it.
How did you get my number?
