The Phantom Texter

Seconds after I posted yesterday's list of things I'm too pretty for, I could've added to the list.

Why? Because of this text message:

"I have a question!"

I didn't recognize the number and it wasn't programmed into my phone... but the Seattle prefix encouraged me to give whoever it was the benefit of the doubt:

"Okay. I don't have you programmed in my phone."

That's when it got weird...

"I know. We've never met and probably never will, but I've had your number in my phone for awhile (Trish gave it to me). My question is do you want to get to know someone new?"

I immediately texted Trish asking who she was giving my number out to, and she had no clue who this person could be. Meanwhile, my new buddy texts again:

"If not I will delete your number and you won't hear from me again."

Maybe I should've told him to go ahead and delete, but I wanted to know who this person was. I've had my share of creepiness in life, and knowledge goes a long way to being able to sleep at night.

"You're kind of creeping me out since you won't tell me who you are."

"I never said I wouldn't tell you who I am. My name is Ryan Pierce. I live in Seattle, Washington, I'm 26, and obviously a little random."

Trish was questioned, she admitted she knew him, and told me he was the same guy who, two years ago, had wanted to fly across the country, drive eight hours from the airport, and take me out to dinner. His devotion was inspired by pictures he'd seen in her apartment that were probably much like this one:

(Yuck. It might actually be this one for all I know.)

So... according to our calculations, Trish and I estimate Ryan has had my phone number for two years and is just now choosing to use it. Awesome.

"That's probably not his smartest idea," Trish uneasily admitted.

I responded nicely since he's still a part of her life, but said no thanks to this new friendship.

I'm too pretty for these things to keep happening...


P.S. I change names. I'm not quite so heartless to tell damning stories with real ones.