not falling down

Sometimes I am mean! Sometimes I am a mean person.

But she started it.

Mom and Grammo, you might not want to read this.

I got a new phone a couple months ago, with a reassigned number, and sometimes I get unexpected phone calls for the person who used to have it (I believe her name is Kate). What I had not received–until last night–was unexpected text messages.

Dis is diamond do
lee like me

I am not as young as I once was, and I confess this took me a while to parse. At first I thought it might be some kind of arcane dance instruction. Eventually, I determined that I was being asked to be some sort of intermediary. So wasn’t it only fair that I be brutally honest with Diamond?

no,

I replied,

he said hes in2
guyz now lol

Diamond was understandably confused! I soon came to see why:

Who u talkin
about im talkin
about leeanna
dat light skin gay
gurl

Ah, so I was being asked to play Cupid between lesbians. Having been burned on this before, I resisted.

Oh dat bitch, she
a ho u dont want
nun a her, she
got the gwarts

At this point, Diamond called me. I let it ring through to voicemail; surely when she heard my greeting she’d figure things out for herself.

Then she texted again.

Ray who u talkin about

(Ray! I… am… Ray!)

im talkin about dat gurl
dat was wit us
today

At this point we picked up our takeout food and I decided to let the matter drop.

Until the next morning, when Diamond called me again, then texted when I didn’t
pick up.

Get up n start
gettin ready cuz
im goin 2 the
library at 11

Despite a resurgent suspicion that my dance-instruction hypothesis was correct after all, I decided to come clean.

Okay, I can’t
keep this up anymore.
Have you not figured
out from the
voicemail
greeting that I’m
not whoever you
think I am?

Diamond had now had T-Mobile shout “Bren. Dan’s. VOICEMAIL!” twice at her, so naturally she sought clarification.

Who is dis

Dis is Brendan.
Like it says, very
loudly, when you
call my voicemail.
Listen, if you
hook up with Lee
you’ll send me
pics, right?

Either Diamond wanted to confirm said greeting once and for all or I had finally drawn her ire. She called a third time, and then:

Tis is diamond
mom if she do
hook up ill kill her
want a pic of
that dont ask no
more dum ass
question i kill u
diam is not a hoe
dont ask 4 no
pics

Now the teenage lesbian was pretending to be someone else! In Soviet Russia, Internet wastes time on you! But the sheer verbosity of her reply surely indicated that her blood was up; I thought maybe that was the place to stop.

It only took her half an hour to start gloating.

U dont have any
more dum ass
questions freak

You poked the bears! Why did you do that! Will suggested an appropriate greeting for my final reply.

Dear Mrs. Diamond:
Your textual fusillade
has left me chagrined.
You’ll have no more
dum ass questions
from me; forthwith,
I’ll issue only
the most
erudite queries.

Now pics or gtfo.

Sadly for us, dear reader, she chose the latter optin.

Good bye & dont
text my phone 4
diamond

And there, it would appear, the matter rests.

I just wish she’d accidentally typed in Ken’s number all those times instead.