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The Ball's In Her Court

We've all been there, brother. We've all been there.

Look, I could be a total loser and stay up all night waiting for her to get back to me, and I almost certainly will do that. But, why bother? If she calls, she calls. I put my sweaty, desperate cards on the table, and now it's on her. And unless I'm mistaken -- which I usually am -- as soon as she hears the sound of my trembling voice she'll be digging through her purse for the Arby's receipt that I frantically scribbled my name and number on.

What can I say? I guess my voice just has that effect on some women.

And when she does call, I am not going to freak out like it's the first time a woman's ever called me or something. In fact, I may just let it ring and keep her on ice for a while, assuming I don't panic first and start screaming into the receiver the second I hear the phone ring.

Because I'm not the kind of player who likes to come on too strong. Just a nice, pitiful, borderline disturbing phone message, and I'm on with my life. It's not like I invited her and her sister to come have tacos with my parents and me tomorrow night or anything. At least, I'm pretty sure I didn't.


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This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on June 11, 2010 8:04 PM.

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