Monday night, I was out with part of the Twitter Clan having a few drinks. My phone rang. Caller ID pegged it as mom. I’d just talked to her on Sunday and I was out with people, so I ignored the call.
Tuesday night, I was out with a former coworker having a few drinks. My phone rang. Caller ID pegged it as mom. Now, I’d just talked to her on Sunday, but she’s not the type to call three days in a row unless something is wrong. So I picked up the phone.
It was my stepdad.
“Well, hello, Kenny,” he said and I could tell by the sound of his voice he was immensely pleased about something.
He was. Turns out it was he who had called on Monday night. Wanted to pick my brain about the series finale of Lost. But I’d ignored the call. Right?
Not quite. Apparently, I answered the call, then put the phone down on the table at which we were sitting.
Then I proceeded to talk. My stepdad and my mom proceeded to listen.
God only knows at which point they listened in on. They seemed far too pleased with themselves to give me any details. Rather just let me twist in the wind, I guess.
I have a sneaking suspicion it may have been while I was bloviating about my views on dating. Something along the lines of–I’m trying to preserve the slightly inebriated nature of the thing–“Hey, look, I don’t date multiple people. You know? Right? Fuck that. I go into a first date and, hey, I hope she’s the one. [At this point someone else probably tries to make a point and I just start talking louder.] It’s stupid. Yeah. But whatever. Fuck it. So no, I don’t date around. But that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna have some one-night stands. Love me some one-night stands. Hell, I’ve slept with half my own friends. Shit.”
I guess it could have been worse. I could have been expounding about, I don’t know, oral sex while my mother listened.
I should point out, too, that the only other people who chimed in during whatever part of the conversation my stepdad and mom listened in on were women. So I’m sure in their minds, I was sitting there cursing about one-night stands with women.
There were guys there. They were either getting drinks or so busy rolling their eyes that they couldn’t speak.
Then again, I could have just been talking about the Lost finale.
Palm and Sprint, I’ve never ass-dialed someone in my life. And I don’t know what malfunctioned on the phone Monday night — yes, I’m blaming the phone — but yall owe me. Or my mom. Someone is owed!