I hardly ever talk on the phone these days. If I do, it’s either work related, my parents, or my BFF whose wedding I am in this coming June. Boys never call anymore, ever. It’s pretty much a rule. Can you even remember the last time a boy (who wasn’t your boyfriend) called you, apart from a perfunctory can’t-find-you-oh-you’re-at-the-other-Starbucks-on-46th-and-7th sort of call?
The age of texting has all but eradicated the once infamous Awkward Phone Call. This was something I happily believed, until my phone rang last Sunday.
Last Sunday I had the most awkward phone conversation of my life. Considering how little I talk on the phone, it may hold that distinction for quite some time. It was about 2PM, I was getting ready to leave the house for a late lunch date. In typical Mary Lane fashion, I was running late for said late lunch date. When my phone buzzed, I looked eagerly at the screen, hoping it was my date texting that he was running late too. (Both habitually late? We’d be perfect for each other!) But my phone wasn’t buzzing from a text. Someone was calling me.
Not my mom, not my BFF, but my friend Jeff. Jeff? Why the hell was he calling me?
Jeff and I went to college, studied theater together. We both live in the city, see each other maybe a couple times a year. He never calls me. The fact he was calling me on a Sunday afternoon was bizarre. Maybe he was in the hospital and none of the ten people he’d tried before calling me picked up. Or maybe he had free tickets to something that night and none of the five people he’d tried before calling me could go. These were the only two explanations I could come up with. Both good reasons to answer the phone. So I picked up.
“Hey Jeff,” I answered, “What’s up?”
“Hey Mary,” he replied, “Not much. I’m in a cab. Coming back from a bachelor party in New Jersey last night.”
He then proceeded to chit-chat about the bachelor party. I wasn’t really listening, I was trying to pick out earrings to wear on my date. I knew he hadn’t called me to talk about his bachelor party experience. But he kept rambling on about it. I wished he’d just get to the point.
“So what?” I finally asked, after settling on simple silver hoops, “Are you ok? Did something happen at this bachelor party that you need my help about? Do you not have cab fare? Did someone steal your wallet? Are you still drunk? Why are you calling me?”
“No, I’m fine.” He replied, “Just hung over, but not mind-numbingly, ya know?”
“OK….”
“I was calling to find out what you’re up to this week.”
Really? He’s calling just because he wants to hang out? I thought. Well, that’s nice. I don’t make an effort to hang out with my friends as much as I should. And he’s calling to just do that? That’s cool. That’s behavior that should be rewarded with an invite when I have one to make.
“I’m seeing Cabaret with my roommates on Friday,” I said, “We have an extra ticket if you want to come.”
“Awesome,” Jeff said, “Yeah that would be great.”
I told him the performance details, talked about how awesome it would be to see Alan Cumming, wondered if Michelle Williams would be good in her Broadway debut. The conversation paused.
Then Jeff said, “I really called because I wanted to see if you might be interested in hooking up this week.”
“Um, yeah,” I replied, more clueless than Cher Horowitz, “We are seeing Cabaret on Friday.” Because when guys who I’ve been friends with for ten years call me randomly on Sunday afternoons, I presume they use the term “hooking up” the same way my 65 year-old mother does.
“No,” Jeff said, “I mean ‘hooking up’, like maybe you’d be interested in a friends-with-benefits arrangement. Ya know, with me.”
What the fuck? I thought, You’re CALLING ME with a casual sex proposition? That’s the reason for this phone call? SERIOUSLY? Are you hoping it’ll be harder for me to say ‘no’ on the phone? What the fuck! This is so weird!
Aloud I said, “Oh.”
Awkward pause.
“Yeah, no. No. I’m not interested. Casual sex is not really my thing right now.”
“Oh,” he said, “That’s too bad.”
Awkward pause.
“I mean, I was thinking maybe you’d want to write about it in your blog.”
“Oh, you’re asking for the sake of my blog?” Really?
“Well, I thought I’d offer you some material.”
“How kind,” I said sarcastically, “But no. I’m not going to have casual sex for the sake of my blog.”
Face palm.
The most awkward phone call of the past decade. And he totally blamed it all on this blog! Can you believe it? I can’t make this stuff up!
From this all, I have deciphered 3 things:
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Boys will call me- if they’re not interested in a relationship. Because that makes sense?
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My blog has been so boring lately, my friends are just desperate to try to help me get material. One will even offer up himself. So supportive.
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I’m a classy lady. I’m so classy guys booty call me at 2PM on Sunday afternoons to arrange casual sex that fits into my schedule for the week.
Jeff, if you’re reading: Thanks for the material & thanks for reading my blog.
