The phone rings

On Saturday night I was sitting on my couch with Mac on my lap, a glass of red wine beside me, and the TV tuned in to Never Been Kissed on the Women's Network. After assessing the situation I messaged Vince.

me: It's Saturday night.

I'm drinking a very good red wine, but home alone, watching a girly movie.

On the Women's network.

6:38 PM Vincent: what movie?

me: Never Been Kissed.

Vincent: ah, that's a pretty good movie

what wine?

6:39 PM me: Something someone gave me for moving in. Wyndham Estates Bin 555. Red. Very good. Big glass :)

6:40 PM this is me being independent, mature homeowner, not sad single girl, right? :P

6:41 PM Vincent: as long as this isn't every night for you :p

Once the movie ended I contemplated another glass of wine. I flipped the channels and settled on Weekend at Bernie's II. Mature homeowner indeed. No, this isn't sad at all.

Shortly after 8pm my phone rang. It was ringing the other tone to let me know that the call was restricted--I'm not really sure what that means, but I figured it was my sister calling from the hospital as that's the only other time I've heard that ring before. Weird that she'd be calling though because we had a fight last weekend and we haven't spoken since. Mind you, we haven't seen each other since then either. I answered it.

Hello?

Hey, Jill?

Yeah.

Hey, how's it going?

Okay.

Do you know who this is?

No.

It's Facebook Flirt*, from the Internet.

*No he didn't actually refer to himself as Facebook Flirt, but I prefer to keep him a little anonymous.