Liv and Let Die
Message 1 (the day after she visited the bar): HI LIV. THIS IS FATMAN THAT JACKASS/ AMNESIAC/ JERK BAR GUY. JUST MESSAGING TO SEE HOW YOU'RE RECOVERING. HOPE YOU HAD A GOOD NIGHT.
Message 2 (about a week later): WHATCHA DOING NEXT FRIDAY? WHATCHA DOING NEXT FRIDAY? ARE YOU BUSY? HUH?HUH?HUH? FRIDAY? BUSY? ( I think I phrased it better. Something posh and Oxford-uni/ Hugh Grant-like. 'I hope you don't find it terribly impertinent of me to....etc,etc)
Message 3 (this morn): SO.....I GUESS YOU WERE BUSY FRIDAY. LOOK, IN THE WAKE OF THE SHANE WARNE 48-MESSAGE BLITZKRIEG I THINK I'LL MAKE THIS MY LAST MESSAGE. APOLOGIES AGAIN FOR NOT CALLING.
Which is probably a good indication that nothing good will ever happen out of this. I've got to say though, I'm actually comfortable with an honest-to-goodness Rejection and the sound of a truck backing up. It's the glacier-like 'no replies' that screw with my mind. Like parents with a missing child I just want some sort of a closure. If the parents eventually find out that their child was mauled to death by a jaguar they can then at least move on with life either by having more kids, adopting or spending the rest of their lives hunting down and exterminating jaguars. They'd rather not have a dead kid but I think it preferable to a missing one.
I think I'll go watch 'Batman',