mardi 8 avril 2008

a cute boy asked for my number!

Okay, okay, it's not what you think. And it's not that exciting. I was on my way to class, and in the doorway are these people who want you to vote for the school's blah blah or attend this manifestation or whatever. I usually take the fliers to appease these people then recycle them when they're not looking. Technically, I'm not a student at their University, I'm just taking classes there. And I'm not "supposed" to attend manifestations--I could get arrested and deported.

So, I got beamed into the Death Star that is this cute, bespectacled blond boy who was passing out fliers. I held out my hand to just grab one, but he kept talking on and on about a conference being held, so I systematically said I'd go, then he got his freaking pen out and asked my name.

Oh blurg.

So I gave him my "French" sounding name: Hélène. He correctly guessed if I was from America, and I replied yes from California. From San Francisco? I said yes to that to. The dude's pretty good at pin pointing even though I'm really from LA, I go to school in SF. Then he freaking asked for my number, and like I was still in auto-pilot, I freaking gave it to him. Stupid, stupid. I should have given him the number for Pizza Hut, if I only knew it. He might have known it though. Can you imagine, some guy asking for your number and you gave him the Pizza Hut number? That's Pizza Hut, he'd say. What would you say? I'd say, "Oh, that's my work number, sorry. My cell is (insert other fake number)."

Anyway, he said he'll call me on Friday night to remind me of the manifestation on Saturday since that was the one I said I'd go to. But I'm not going. And I'm not answering any "inconnus" (unknown) numbers on Friday night.

I recycled the fliers, don't you worry.