Ah, yes. The old "take-the-number-and-never-call" gag. I've done this myself, so I'm guilty. I'm sorry.
What happens is this: you've had about thirty-seven rum & cokes and you start talking to a girl. Maybe you're dating someone else; maybe you're from out of town; maybe you really think you're going to call her.
Anyhow, a week later, you find a crumpled up napkin with a number on it. You vaguely remember the woman behind the number ("Dude," says your buddy when you ask him if he remembers her, "she was so hot!"), but you've met someone new since then.
So you keep the napkin in your apartment for a few months, looking at it from time-to-time, until one day you have no idea what it's doing there. So you throw it out.
And you know what? I've had women take my number and never call -- and I HATE IT. So let's vow right now never to do it again.
What happens is this: you've had about thirty-seven rum & cokes and you start talking to a girl. Maybe you're dating someone else; maybe you're from out of town; maybe you really think you're going to call her.
Anyhow, a week later, you find a crumpled up napkin with a number on it. You vaguely remember the woman behind the number ("Dude," says your buddy when you ask him if he remembers her, "she was so hot!"), but you've met someone new since then.
So you keep the napkin in your apartment for a few months, looking at it from time-to-time, until one day you have no idea what it's doing there. So you throw it out.
And you know what? I've had women take my number and never call -- and I HATE IT. So let's vow right now never to do it again.
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