On the napkin written in eyeliner were three numbers, a dash and then four more numbers followed by the words “Text me!”
Allen looked up at the flirtatious bartender in mild confusion then asked, “Text? Don't you mean call..?”
“Hell no!” She chortled incredulously, “I've had this phone for almost a year now and I've never answered it once. Never try to call me. EVER.”
“Ah, I see…” he said slowly but he was lying. He really didn't see what might lead someone to avoid a conversation with a person they had actively tried to connect with. Maybe it was a generational thing? But some of his peers had started avoiding calls as well. Maybe the whole world was changing and he was just the last to change along.
“Maybe I could send you a carrier pigeon with a tiny scroll? Or a smoke signal? If you really want to escape phone calls you could probably just get rid of the whole phone altogether, right?”
The flirtatious smile on her face was gone now. She snatched the napkin out of his fingers, tore it into confetti and threw the pieces into a bin. And so ended another well meaning but woefully unsuccessful attempt at connecting with a fellow human being through humor.
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