I don’t know about you, but I had a really good summer. Probably the best part of it was all the really amazing people I met, whether in person or in other ways, specifically via text message. Seriously, y’all, I met my new best friends this summer when I was accidentally included in their group text. This is the cutest of meet-cutes I’ve ever been a part of, and in preparation for the day when I inevitably share this story with my great-grandcats, I’d like to share it now with you.
It all started when I got the following message:
It was sent to me and two other strangers, by an unknown number. I was, naturally, immediately intrigued. A gang? Meeting at a parking lot? Like they did in the past?? Count me in! Unfortunately, I looked it up and there are eleven(!!) different Ann & Hope locations scattered all around Connecticut/Rhode Island/Massachusetts. I couldn’t ask which one they meant, because then they might have caught on to the fact that I wasn’t the person they meant to text. I realized driving to each location might make me a little late, so I did the obvious thing:
Perfect!
Well, sort of. After talking to some people who are much more morally sound than I am, I realized I would have to come clean about my true non-identity. But before I could, the plot took another turn:
WOAH. Hold up. Mystery Sharon’s involved in this?? Shit just got a million times more interesting.
For context, Mystery Sharon is a woman who texted me way back in May:
My intuition told me I would need her number in the future, so I saved it, and guess what!! My intuition was right!! Hi, Mystery Sharon!! Nice to hear from you again!! But still, I had to tell them the truth:
You would think they’d understand that “wrong number” means “wrong number” and drop it, but apparently they felt the need to investigate further. So I decided to have a little fun, which led to the following chaos:
Now. The first one was not “Bev,” the first one was me. But then I remembered something else. About two weeks earlier, I’d received a call from an unknown number. The conversation went a little something like this:
ME: Hello?
CALLER: Is this Beverly?
ME: No, I think you have the wrong number.
CALLER: *Five seconds of silence.*
ME: Okay, good luck with Beverly.
CALLER: What?
ME: Good luck with Beverly…?
CALLER (angry, confused): Good luck with Beverly?!?!
And then I hung up. But this memory made it clear to me that somewhere out there, there were some people who were convinced my number belonged to a woman named Beverly. Since I’ve only had this number for a year, and clearly these people don’t communicate very often, as well as the fact that they seem to be old (“we all need to retire”, the mystery caller from a few weeks earlier had an old lady voice), I reached the morbid conclusion that these women’s friend Beverly was dead and they had no idea.
But I couldn’t just say that, right?? How do you tell a group of strangers that you think their friend they think is you is probably dead? So instead I said this:
And decided to really get into character:
While this was going on, two of them tried calling me. For fear of ending the game, I did not pick up. However, it ended anyway.
I was still curious as to what this mysterious get together was for, so I texted them again the following day, after they had already met up:
I’d thought my messages from earlier had made it clear that I wasn’t going to be there, but apparently not. So I said it again:
LOL, these gals. They do have fun. I decided to make it official and express my love in the best way I know how:
But unfortunately was quickly and concisely shut down:
Well, fuck.
They may not be texting me anymore, but at least I know that the memory of these amazing two days will live on in all our hearts forever. Well, except Bev’s. Poor Bev. May she probably rest in peace.
Images via, Leeron Lempel.