867-5309

You've seen it in TV shows, you've seen it in movies. A guy walks up to a girl, flirts a little bit, and asks for her phone number. What follows is either a martini in the face or the guy walks away with the requested seven digits. I can proudly say that I have never gotten a martini thrown in my face when asking for a girl's number, but I can not-so-proudly say that I have never asked. But never asking doesn't mean never receiving.

     It happened one Thursday afternoon at work. I was about to clock out and leave when I turned around to Rashaell and asked, "You working tomorrow?"

     "No," she said, "are you?"

     "Yeah, 8 to 4."

     "Could you text me the schedule when it comes out tomorrow?"

     I was about two milliseconds from saying, "I don't text," and explain how I hate it is frustrating, but then I stopped and thought, "This could be my chance to get her number." So I nodded my head and said, "I'd be glad to."

     "Thanks," she said, "My cell number is on the weekly schedule sheet."

     I said goodbye and rushed over to the schedule sheet with a pen and post-it note. Then, out of the corner of my ear (is that a saying? I don't think that's a saying. Eh, whatever) I heard the taunting, shrill voice of Ashlee - my arch nemesis. Ashlee was a snarky, very small girl I worked with. She only weighed about 90 lbs and was probably 4', -10'' in tall. Why did I dislike her? Was it her snarky attitude? No, I actually quite enjoyed that. It was because she was the assistant manager's daughter and she thought she could get away with anything.

     Anyway, she comes up behind me and says, "Wachya doin'?"

     "Getting someone's number." I said without looking away from the schedule.

     "A guuuuuuuuuuurrrrl's number?"

     "Yeah."

     "Wait," she asked, "what about that one girl you like?"

     I had completely forgotten that a few weeks earlier she had come across the scent that I liked someone. She didn't know who, but she was persistent to find out. "That's whose number I'm getting." I said.

     "Oh my god!" She exclaimed, "She works here!?"

     "Ohhhhhh nooooo," I said slowly under my breath.

     "Who is it? Who is it? Are you going to call her. You know you have to wait three days, right?"

     "I'm just texting her the schedule tomorrow."

     "Oh! Can you text me the schedule too?"

     A long pause proceeded in which time I seriously contemplated how much I wanted Ashlee to have access to my number. But in the end, ". . . . . . . okaaaaaay." So I took my pen and wrote down the second number.

     That is the story of how I got two girls' numbers without even asking. This was also the story of how I only programed one onto my phone and threw the other in the trash as I walked out the door.