My, “I can’t believe this actually happened to me,” follow-up to the winky face article.

About two months ago at work, I was left my first phone number. The digits were scribbled on a comment card I had dropped at the table, above some dudes messy signature of his name, Ben. The timing really was perfect – after dropping off the check and doing my standard goodbye spiel, “Aw, are you sure there isn’t anything else I can get for you?,” I smiled, conked my head to the side, thanked them again, and whipped around, being sure to really WALK away, accentuating the only view that looks flattering in the worlds most unflattering uniform … my backside.

I really was confident in a 20% tip. The three guys weren’t heinous looking and we had struck quite a flirtatious conversation about Lollapalooza, the music festival we had all attended the weekend before. After making a lap about the dining room, I shuffled back over to their now empty table where I found a 25% tip and my first ever digits.

Being a girl who looks about nineteen in a restaurant that serves predominantly a crowd of 20-30 somethings certainly has it perks – however, meeting man friends is not one of them. Besides the unflattering but ever so comfortable uniform, I usually rely on my humor or personality to win my tables over, which usually results in “Oh, honey/sweetie/what’s your name again?/ you’re just too cute!” (Which frankly makes me want to hurl).

So, okay- sue me for basking in the glory of “Holy crap I totes got that guys nuuuuuumber!” It was my first. And I was pumped! Driving home later that night, comment card in one hand, cell in the other, my roommate and I debated how to play this new card I was dealt.

“Do you know which one Ben was?,” she asked, and I honestly had no clue. “I’m hoping it’s the blond … we had major eye contact all night – but I really don’t know. Should I text him? What should I say? Would that be weird? OMG!?!?!?!”

I manned up and sent the first text. “Oh hey Ben from California“. (Sexy, sly & clever, I was totally on my game that night)

Two minutes later, my phone vibrated. “Didn’t think you’d actually respond ๐Ÿ˜‰

(Ahem : If there is one thing I hate more than bad grammar, its emoticons on the first text. Hell, on any text)

While the kids response was common and typical of the given situation, the winky face was a turn-off. How was I to even respond to something like that? Awkward emoticons are almost as bad as one-word answer text messages. And seriously, don’t EVEN get me started on that. O.K.?

The old me probably would’ve never responded to the weird winky – but in keeping with my whole “turning over a new leaf,” phase, I figured why not – why not give this random person who may or may not be attractive and who may or may not understand why exactly winky faces are disgusting and weird, why not give him a chance? Everyone deserves a chance! (And thank god I did respond because if I hadn’t, this story would not exist. So, in theory, you’re welcome!)

Lan : Ha, so which one were you? (“Please say the blond, please say the blond!”)

Ben : The short rib guy ๐Ÿ˜‰ (Another winky. And by short rib guy, you mean the kind of awkward looking one who kept ordering more and more short ribs)

Ben: So its Alysia? I cudnt tell frm the paper (Oh, really, you CUDN’T tell? Funny, considering my name was typed out very clearly on the top of your “paper.” So, clearly, you can’t read and you also don’t know how to spell “couldn’t” aaaaaaand you couldn’t bother to add an “o” to from. Woof, kill me now)

Lan: It’s Allana, by the way. So, how long are you guys in town for? (And by guys, I’m trying to imply I’d rather be hanging out with your blond friend)

Ben: Mondayyyy. So u wk’in dis wknd? (Barf)

Lan: Yea, I work every day this weekend. Kinda sucks, but it should be busy. (And by busy, I really mean I will be so busy I will not make any plans afterwards except go out and socialize with people who know how to spell and speak properly. Also, by not asking any sort of question or prompt, I’m hoping you get the point I never want to meet up, ever)

Ben:ย Coo Cooย 


Ben: U wana smoke ๐Ÿ™‚


Ben: Wats yr last name?


Ben: Was gunna try and adjoo on da book ๐Ÿ˜‰

Yep. That actually happened.

I’ve certainly heard, “Da book,” used in normal conversations before, not by anyone I know or associate with … but I’ve heard it. Adjoo, on the other hand, is a first.

If you’re actually reading this and following along, you will realize our homeboy Ben sent four text messages in a row, with no response in between. Rather than figuring out a witty and clever response, I was in bed, texting my roommate five feet away, shaming her via text (in proper english, of course) for making me respond in the first place.

The next day at work, I made it quite clear that “the guy who left me his number, oooohhhhh,” was a total psycho. I showed his texts to anyone within reach. Obviously, I had to prove my point. And by the end of the night, I figured he was smart enough to have gotten the point.

So, after work, three friends and I headed to a local bar where my phone proceeded to blow up.

Ben: Yo gurl wat u doin ๐Ÿ˜‰

I had been drinking and I had also been hit on by a guy who told me over and over, he was convinced I was the girl he went to middle school with, who was obsessed with horses. His one liners included, “You just look like someone who would love horses!”

Lan: Speak proper english

A little ballsy, but I said it. I think the horse comment had really gotten to me. As did that fourth vodka lemonade. Thats why I changed him from “Ben” to “Crazy-Coo-Coo” in my contacts.

Ben: Ouch ๐Ÿ™‚ so are you out?

Funny how a little honesty can bring out the correct spelling yet hinder the winky face.

At this point, I was drunk. And annoyed. And feeling a little silly. So, I gave my phone to my guy friend, begging him to respond, considering I just “cudn’t”

What followed were a series of texts back and forth between Coo-Coo and my friend, who was badgering and questioning why Coo-Coo would be texting a girl who had a boyfriend in the first place. (I actually didn’t)

Coo-Coo: Woah man, I’m sorry, I didn’t know, she never said anything, I’m not trying to cause trouble, I’m sorry, I didn’t know, don’t want to fight, I’m sorry for everything, sorry

Lan: No worries, she mentioned you were a cool dude but then it crossed that line and thats when I have to intervene

Coo-Coo: Sorry man, yea I didn’t know, sorry, don’t want to cause trouble, I’ll leave you guys alone, sorry, yea, sorry.ย 

Looking back, I really don’t feel that bad. Coo-cool got what he deserved. What makes me laugh most about the whole story is that, once I confronted him about the whole “speaking properly,” he suddenly texted back in full, complete and coherent sentences. Funny how that works out.

Though I’m slightly bummed he didn’t end our text relationship rendezvous with a final winky goodbye, I basked in the fact he got a taste of what I’m sure can only be, his own medicine. My heart goes out to the girls I’m sure he’s texting now, wondering if he could finally adjem’ on da’ book.

2 thoughts on “My, “I can’t believe this actually happened to me,” follow-up to the winky face article.

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