Not Sorry, Wrong Number
I was in Sydney at Superconference. It’s Saturday, about 7pm. The conference is over for the day and I’m back at my double bed hostel room at Base Backpackers, staring at the ceiling. I go through my phone and call some of the numbers I got at Bungalow 8 the night before.
“Hey, Clarissa.”
“What?”
“Is that Clarissa?”
“Who? I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“That’s okay, never mind.” I hung up. Delete the number. Sometimes girls give you fake numbers on purpose, sometimes they do it accidentally because they’re so drunk they can’t see straight. No biggie. I call a few other numbers, get some voicemails.
I got a text a few minutes later. “Who did you say you were looking for?”
I don’t remember who the number is from. I write back “I was looking for Suzy.”
“Oh there’s no Suzy. I thought you were looking for Amber, this used to be her phone.”
“That’s cool – don’t worry about it. So what’s going on?”
“Not much… I don’t know who you are.”
“That’s okay I’m all alone in the big city and I need friends. You live in Sydney right?”
“Ah… yes. This is so weird… My name’s Kaity. What’s yours?”
About ten minutes later I had her on the phone and I started talking a variety of shit, crap, poop, and faeces. Maybe I told her I was just down in Sydney to go to a conference to learn about picking up girls. Maybe I didn’t. She was 17 and lived about an hour out of the city. Then I started escalating, saying I was going to grab her ass or some shit.
Then, I had phone sex with a wrong number.
She texted me a couple of times that night. I tried to get her to come and meet me in the city but she didn’t have any way of getting in. I never really spoke to her again. I looked at her pictures on Myspace though. She was pretty hot.
