One of my favorite feelings in the world is when somebody asks for my number. Anybody. Old, young, male, female, I don't care. It just makes me feel so special, like I have a new friend! Even if the person needs my number for school or something boring, I still get so excited when people ask for it. Sometimes when I need someone's number or I feel like we're at the point in our friendship where we should have each other's numbers, I'll wait for them to ask me because it makes my heart soar on wings of ostrich. (I know ostriches can't fly, but I feel like it would be really fun and liberating and crazy windy to ride on their wings while they're running super fast.)
So yesterday, this guy at Chick Fil A (my favorite place in the world) asked for my number. And I was just so honored. I mean, people never ask for my number. Especially guys. Seriously. Except that he didn't ask me for it...he asked somebody else for it.
Here's what I thought happened:
Frank*, who works at Chick Fil A, and I have interacted a couple of times, like last week when I didn't know what salad dressing to get and he suggested one to me that I liked, then later he asked me what I thought. So I told him I liked it. I liked it real good. And then last night I was there again and I was just curious as to how old he is because he's kind of short but he doesn't look like he's in high school. I asked Fred, my dear friend who had also been there last night doing job training, how old Frank was but he didn't know, but then later he texted me and said Frank wanted my number. I felt like that definitely came out of nowhere. Like one minute I was just asking Fred how old Frank was out of curiosity, then suddenly Frank wanted my number? And I didn't know how to react to that. So I just assumed that Frank remembered me from earlier that night and from other times I had been there before and had noticed me and now had decided to ask Fred for my number. Should I be honored? Should I be freaked out because some random guy wanted my phone number? Did I want to give it to him? Then I thought about how I don't know his last name, or what he does with his life, or what color his eyes are, or if he's actually a pimp. Because working at CFA would be a pretty good cover for being a pimp. No one would ever suspect you because Chick Fil A is a place of sunshine and happiness. Welcome to the crazy mind of Laura(licious). So I decided that maybe it would be kind of fun to just live a little, to give my number to this guy and if things got weird I could just never text him back and never go to the Clemson CFA again (which would be a pretty big sacrifice, but if it came to that, I knew it would be my own fault and I had brought it upon myself).
Here's what actually happened:
Fred asked Frank how old he was after I had left, then Frank figured out that it was a girl who wanted to know his age, then asked Fred for my number. Weird. Crazy. Kind of embarrassing for me. Also Frank doesn't even know my name. He doesn't know that it was specifically me who was just lightly wondering how old he was for my records (just kidding, I don't have records. But I do have a brain that I sometimes use.) So I can just pretend it never happened next time I go to CFA and he takes my order. Whew! Disaster: averted. Barely.
The whole ordeal only lasted like 14 hours. But, these are the kinds of 14-hour ordeals I get myself into on a very regular basis.
Also, don't judge me for writing a whole blog post on a guy I don't even know asking my friend for my number. Because it's a little lame.
Lesson learned: save the drama for your mama. I should have just asked my mama what to do and also not freaked out, because freaking out is my automatic reaction to everything. I didn't even tell my mama because it's kind of an embarrassing situation now that I know the whole story, except for she's probably reading this so you're welcome, Mom, for telling you over the interwebs that a guy (kind of) wanted my number.
You guys. Learn from my mistakes. Don't consider giving out your number to strange boys (who possibly could be pimps) who work at Chick Fil A through your 16-year-old guy friends. Or just be smart. Use your brain, guys. It's there for a reason.
Love,
Lauralicious
*all names have been changed so I don't embarrass anybody too much. Except for my name. You already know my name so it's staying the same for the story.
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