It's not unheard of for someone to get one over on me. I'm generally a trusting guy, and I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt. If you're clever enough, you can use this against me.
This is the tale of two women who weren't clever enough. But God love 'em, they tried.
Now before I get into the story, let me give you a little background information. On occasion, I indulge in a practice I call "shaking the bushes." Here's how it works.
I'll find myself alone on a nice enough evening, with nothing to do and nowhere to go. Usually I'm ok with that; I can crack open a good book or write you people a little blog and the night just seems to fly by. But every so often, I'm restless, and I want to do something, or talk to somebody.
But I can't think of who exactly to call, or what exactly to do.
So I'll pull out my cell phone, and open up the Text Message feature, and write a message that simply says "Hey what's up?"
Then I'll scroll through my address book, and send that message out to five, ten, sometimes even fifteen people at the same time- usually women, and usually women that I've taken out a time or two but had only lukewarm interest in. Then I wait to see who responds. In other words, I "shake" the proverbial "bushes" to see what animals come running out of them.
Now before I continue, I can already hear a good number of you women out there decrying this horrible, demeaning practice. I think you women are silly for doing so. Why? What's so horrible about it? To me, it's like walking into a crowded party, and shouting, "Hey, anyone wanna make a Taco Bell run or something?" Fifteen people hear you, maybe one or two say yes, and by the time you pull out of the driveway, the Taco Bell run idea has turned into a 45-minute dessert at Denny's. No harm, no foul, and while nobody fell in love, nobody spent the night bored sitting on the arm of a couch at a lame-ass party, either.
On one particular night this past summer, I shook the bushes. I picked out a few names at random and shot off my three-word instigating message. Then I sat back and waited.
Within a minute, I got a message back from J that said simply, "Hey we should hang out tonight!!"
J was a girl I had taken to lunch about three months prior. Nice enough, pretty enough, but she just didn't light my fire for me to seriously pursue her. But I kept her number and sent her my bush-shaker every few weeks, just in case. She had never responded. Until tonight. When she was suddenly gung-ho enough to not just suggest we hang out, but to pile an extra exclamation point onto the end of it.
Odd.
As I was musing over this oddity, I received another text message. This time from K.
K is the Hot Grandma I took out for dinner just a few weeks before. Again, nice enough, pretty enough, but we didn't see eye to eye on some essential things, and so I kept her around in my phone list as someone to say hello to every so often, but not someone to chase after like a coyote on a rabbit.
K had never responded to a bush-shaker, either. Until tonight.
Her message said, "Hey we should hang out tonight!!" Double exclamation point and all.
Now, Stevie's no fool.
OBVIOUSLY, unbeknownst to me until this moment, J and K know each other... and OBVIOUSLY, J and K were hanging out together that very night. And OBVIOUSLY, when they both got my "Hey what's up?" text message at the same time, they were INCENSED! How dare I send the exact same message to two different women at the same time! Why, I must be-- a PLAYER!!
(Remember what I said about how you women think this practice is demeaning?)
SO OBVIOUSLY, J and K hatched up a little plot to teach me- the PLAYER- a lesson.
They were both going to lead me on.
At the same time.
With the exact same wording in their text messages, right down to the punctuation.
And since I'm not a clever woman, fighting a PLAYER for the dignity of the entire gender, OBVIOUSLY that little detail was going to slide right by me.
Well, hey- two can play at this game. Or three, I guess.
I responded to both K and J at the exact same time, with the exact same message.
"Yeah we should!"
They responded back, at the exact same time, with the exact same message:
"Come over tonight! I'm feeling naughty. ;)"
Mmm hmm.
Oh wait, not "mmm hmm", I forgot, I'm a stupid PLAYER, I think below my waist. So I was obviously going to fall for this.
I sent my response, and a brief three-way conversation ensued. Or rather, two separate-but-equal two-way conversations ensued, because at no point did it ever occur to the two geniuses that they might want to at least vary their wording a little, if they weren't going to vary their story lines.
ME: oh are you? Well then I'm coming right over!
J and K: Good! what do you want me to wear?
ME: Does it matter? Just make it sexy.
J and K: I'm going to wear a tank top and a mini skirt.
ME: Sounds hot!
J and K: So what time will you be here?
ME: What time is good for you?
...and here's where they finally thought things over a little, in an attempt to finalize their devious plot. They inserted a little variety.
J: Be here at 9:30.
K: Be here at 10:00.
ME: Ok, see you soon!
I sat there for a moment, trying to think like a woman. Not an easy thing to do. What was the end game here? I mean, there was really only two ways this could play out, from their point of view.
1) I show up at J's place, and the gig is up. Or....
2) I don't show up at all, and nobody really wins.
Obviously, they were really hoping for option #1. They wanted their Movie-moment, their plot climax, where the PLAYER opens the door to find the two vindictive women standing there- and oh my GOD, they KNOW EACH OTHER, oh what a plot-twist, who saw THAT coming???-- and then they--
--they----
---they what?
This was an anti-climax waiting to happen. Silly ladies, the way to play it would have been to invite me over to both their places at the exact same time, seen who I tossed aside, and who I wanted more, and then both wait at that girl's house to nab me. Booyah, then they have a genuine gripe, because I actually DID turn down one to see the other.
But now?
Hell, I have two appointments half an hour apart, and I'm not even dating either of these broads, so who's being harmed?
I had to see how they thought this was going to play out.
I drove over to J's place. I pulled up right at 9:30, as scheduled, and walked up the front walk. J was out front, watering some flowers. You know, like every woman does at 9:30 at night. Oh, and she was wearing jeans and a long-sleeve sweater too, not a mini-skirt and a tank-top, so they didn't even think to follow through with the wardrobe. And she was nervous as a cat. Jumpy, eyes twitching all over the place.
I walked up to her and smiled and gave her a big hug. "Hi, J! What's up?"
She looked confused. I wasn't making any mention of the fact that she was- well, clothed. And I was happy to see her anyway. I wasn't acting like a PLAYER at all! Kind of like the way I didn't act like a PLAYER when I took her out to lunch a few months earlier.
But no- I had sent out two text messages at the SAME TIME, to TWO WOMEN, with the SAME MESSAGE! I MUST be a player, right?
...right...?
The poor girl, I could see her rethinking things. She almost looked guilty at this point. She muttered something lame and incoherrent about how she was watering her flowers (yeah I saw that) and how she has the guy setting tile over still finishing up her bathroom but he'll be gone in a minute (Oh is that whose truck is parked out front?) and um... well, do you want to come in?
Sure.
We walked to the door.
She reached for the knob. There was a little more spring in her step now, because this was it, this was their big moment, this was the GOTCHA! Her cohort was there, waiting on the other side of the door, and now- NOW!- was the moment when they were going to put the PLAYER in his place, because he tried to PLAY them, and in so doing tried to play ALL WOMEN, and so on behalf of ALL WOMEN, they were going to do me in, right here, and right now, as she was reaching for that knob, and was turning it, and was about to open that door--
"OH hey," I said, as the door started to crack open a little, "Is K still here, or did she head home? Because after this, I'm supposed to head over to her place to see her."
J stopped, the door half open, and looked at me, her eyes comically wide open, as empty and vacuous as her intellect. Her mouth worked up and down a little, as she subvocalized her confusion in unintelligible vowels and consonants.
Then, almost on auto-pilot, she just pushed the door open.
There stood K, as vacuous and surprised as J. They looked at each other.
They looked at me.
They looked at each other again.
I walked in and gave K a big hug. Unsure what to do, she hugged me back, somewhat reluctantly.
"So how long have you two known each other?" I asked nonchalantly as I walked in and sat down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. J and K followed after me, not saying a word. Shock was in the air, like a big empty void.
This was supposed to have been their moment of glory, and it failed. And they had no back-up plan.
I stayed for a few minutes, and had a great conversation with the tile guy as those two sat in stunned silence and watched me enjoying myself a little right there in J's kitchen, on what was supposed to have been their big night, their grand moment. I left as I gradually felt their stunned silence fade into sullen icy displeasure, and then a low dull anger.
When a woman is angry, that is ALWAYS the time to leave.
As I headed out the door, I turned to K and looked at my watch. "Um... I probably won't be able to make it over until about 10:30, will you be home by then?"
K just laughed mirthlessly and quietly. As I drove away, laughing to myself, with PLENTY of mirth, and with plenty of volume, I heard my cell phone beep. It was a text message. From K.
It said, "Don't bother coming over tonight."
I laughed to myself again, and typed out a one-word response. Not even a word, really, just a syllable, but one that to me summed up this entire ridiculous night, and their entire ridiculous plot. I punched it in and hit send.
It said, simply:
"Duh."
