I don’t have as much time to get into trouble like I used to, so when a friend, who I’ll call G, offered me the opportunity for mischief I couldn’t turn it down. Things didn’t go well with a French girl G dated, and a friend/rival (or what the kids call a frenemy) I’ll call F wanted the girl’s phone number which G did not want to give out, so instead G gave the frenemy my phone number where I would have the opportunity to pretend to be the French girl. This charade would not last long in the olden days where suitors would call the suited. My voice is much too deep for even the sultriest of French women.
But in this day and age men text. The first text said “Salut comment ca va?” Followed by his name.
I do not know French but I responded anyway, “You are G’s friend I hear so much about?”
He instantly called me. I of course did not pick up and instead responded, “I can not talk. I am with my husband. Later tonight I can meet. You like Segafredo (Segafredo is a popular neighborhood Eurotrash hangout)?”
A half hour later I get a text that says, “Sure.”
I’m laughing so hard. At this point my Love Interest has come home from work and wondering what’s so funny. I recount the whole story holding back tears. She wants to see what the guy looks like. I text him, “Send me a photo.”
He writes back “Lol. You too.”
This is when I enter what I’m not too humble to describe as brilliance. I notice an issue of a fashion magazine laying around the house and find an advertisement and take a close-up picture of the face of a model. He returns with a photo of himself shirtless on a boat. I’m laughing all night over this, thinking it’s over.
But then the next day at 3 in the afternoon I get a text from him that simply says “Hey”
The French woman in me is outraged. Such nonchalance. This is the amount of effort he gives trying to win my hand? I text him. “I waited for you at Segafredo last night. I am not a woman who lets her time be wasted. Do not contact me again.”
He writes back, “So sorry. I was waiting for you to confirm and I never heard back from you.”
This has me in stitches which worries me, as my definition of insanity is being the only one in on a joke. I call up G to laugh about it. He says F wants to call the French lady. As we talk I come up with a hilarious way to end it. When he does call I will speak in my normal manly voice (perhaps with an accent, perhaps not) and be this French woman’s husband and threaten him if he calls my wife again.
Of course over the next few days F has called two times, but I was away from the phone both times. It is probably just as well. I know I’m too old to be partaking in this nonsense. But the other part in me wants to set up some fake match.com and JDate accounts.