Thursday, February 4, 2010

The Mr. T. Chronicles: Chapter 2: The Middle

Phones can be so incompliant. No matter how long you stare at them, they refuse to ring. Or buzz. Or go shove the shoulder of the person you want to holla and MAKE THEM TALK TO YOU. Sigh.

I was once again, willing WITH ALL MY MIGHT Mr. T. to text me. The ultimate female pastime. I had managed to get myself into a rather sticky situation. It had started out quite promising; a no-strings-attached (and really awesome) physical liaison. I unfortunately had not counted on my treacherous heart falling for the elusive Mr. T. Which left me in this state: supposedly in a BootyBuddy relationship, but liking the guy I’m not supposed to be emotionally attached to. The inner turmoil was amusing (because I got myself into it with no firearms or mind-altering drugs involved) and yet agonizing, because he wasn’t supposed to know (no matter how bad an actor I was. If I hadn’t admitted to anything, I was sticking to the script. But how long could I keep it up…). So I couldn’t call him or text him or anything (refer to The Mr. T. Chronicles: Prequel) because those weren’t the dynamics of our understanding…and I couldn’t see him either because again, dynamics. Casual lunch dates were a figment of my wistful imagination…usually we’d just skip to dessert. Marion had already caught me sneaking about her office and given me suspicious looks…the cat was clawing its way out of the bag, really. So that left me here…about to put a hurt on my phone because the screen hadn’t changed since the last time I looked at it 20 seconds ago.

In my defense…or in my delusion, I had begun to feel like there was something more on his side too. But being female, you can never really trust your gut where…um…dessert…is involved. Dessert tends to cloud your judgment. But still. Like when he-

BZZ!! There IS a God. Oh wait….He may be sleeping. It wasn’t Mr. T. Of course it wasn’t. That would be too easy, wouldn’t it. I silently and inwardly shook my fist at the cold, cruel world.

Well well well. It was Mr. M. Those guys who are on the ‘Maybe’ list, but only because there was someone very prominenTly feaTured on The ‘CurrenT’ lisT. If you caTch my drifT. I texted hiM back, and conTinued To waiT-

BZZ!! O….k. Mr. M. again. Saying a couple of interesting things. Hmmm. He wasn’t usually this proactive. And there was another text within two minutes of the next one… Damnation. Drinks? Really? I mean, Mr. M. was tempting enough, make no mistake, he fit right into my weakness for fine men, but…he wasn’t Mr. T. So now. But then again, I wasn’t in a relationship with Mr. T., so why the feeling of disloyalty to something that didn’t exist?

Ok, so I needed a sign. Any sign. Aaaaaaaaaany day now. Some supernatural arrow to point me in the right direction. I was desperate here. Caught between two really, really soft places. I needed something to tell me-




  1. yaaarr.. damnation!
    A toast.

  2. It gets livelier and livelier. But I looked for chapter 2 to no avail. Or you need a lesson in counTing.