Oh yes! One year on from being dumped unceremoniously in a Weatherspoons on my round, and these can STILL happen!
Allow me to set the scene; it’s early November, a year on from the break up, and with a high flying job, a new flat, fabulous hair and half a stone lighter, the last thing on my mind is that straggly haired, drug addled monkey man. Right?
So, stumbling around half asleep at 6.30am (pre-coffee), I sit on my couch (ready to become post-coffee), and squirm around a bit until I find my blackberry. I’m sitting on it of course. Imagine my surprise when I look at my phone to find it has not only dialledTVboy, but he has picked up! At 6.30am! OH MY GOOD GOD!
So I do what any self respecting woman would do… and switch my phone off until I get to work.
Upon closer inspection while downing my third cup of coffee around 10.30am, I dare to investigate how this horrific event could have occurred. TVboy, like all of my exes, was deleted from my contacts after the breakup (though not before someone convinced me it was a really good idea to let her call him in the middle of the night pretending to be a chinese take away… oh yeah… that happened), so how did my EVIL blackberry accidentally dial him?
A word to the wise, slighted ladies. Blackberrys may delete contacts, but that does not automatically remove them from SPEED DIAL.
Anyhoo, day continues, and at 11.30am I am rushing about, late for a meeting – as usual. I’m dashing down the corridor, and bump into an attractive yet completely bent bloke on my way. I shout an apology over my shoulder, dive into the meeting room before the door closes, and only then do I look at my phone. Which has called TVboy. Again.
Call cancelled. Phone off. Fight the temptation to throw it across the room. Do not turn it on again until I’m safely tucked up in bed and I’m sure he’s too stoned to dial to see what I want.
Oh. My. God.
Now, I have removed the speed dial, and deleted his number from the ‘recently dialled’ list, so there is NO TRACE of TVboy on my phone. None whatsoever. Too little too late methinks!
You realise what this looks like, yes? A year on from the hideous dumping, it looks like I have been moping around for a year, PINING for the weasely bastard, and on the anniversary of our break up this crazy woman phones at ridiculous times, desperate to get back together.
Irony is a bitch sometimes.