I'm Not Proud of Myself.

(If you have not read "The Villain in Me..." this might not mean much to you. It's a follow-up)

The Villain texted me the other day.
His number registered as 404-917-6*** as he is now an unknown in my registry of numbers.
Here's what he had to say.

"Good morning
Hope all is well"

And here's how I responded.

"Who the ***k is
this? U got the
wrong d***
number dis early n
d mornin"

It was 7:21am. I'd only been home from work an hour.
I'm used to being up early.


...SOMETIMES WE THINK WE KNOW OURSELVES.
UNTIL WE ARE CONFRONTED.

Here's how The Villian responded.

"Wow...really???
This is N----"

I was delighted. The dumba** bought it.
(I'm not generally one to curse. But this is how I was thinking at the time of my temporary insanity.)

I respond back with
NOTHING.

The Villian finally realizes he's not as cerebral as he thought he was...
He finally gets it.

"I'm sure u
knew who this was....so whatever," he says.
(End of conversation)

I'D WANTED TO MAKE HIM THINK I'D CHANGED NUMBERS & THOUGHT SO little OF HIM I DIDN'T EVEN THINK TO LET HIM KNOW. (I thought this might hurt him more than just me not responding)

I WANTED TO STING HIS MILDEWED HEART WITH AN EARLY MORNING APPETIZER OF CRUDE LANGUAGE AND OBLIVION TO MY WHEREABOUTS.

I WANTED TO 409 HIM, SuperClean HIM, bleach HIM. SO HE COULD KNOW THAT I'D GONE THIS TIME. FOR GOOD.