This morning I finally got around to charging my cell phone. It had been dead for two days. So I hook it up to the power and switch it on.
Messages come pouring in (I am so popular). I clear them one by one.
Then my phone beeps. Another new message.
It's a number I don't recognise.
The message says, "Hi"
Then another comes through. "Hi Mily"
Er, some kid has typed in the wrong digits. He is thinking I am some girl called Mily.
I txt back, "No Mily here u got da wrng ph numba"
Beep Beep.
"Wat?" the txt says.
OK, this kid is slow. So I txt, "Who is dis?" (I can speak txt lingo too)
Beep beep. "Its Brandon"
Brandon? I don't know any Brandon.
"Sorry I don't know any brandon you got da wrong phone number" (I use normal spelling just in case my txt lingo was unclear)
"No dis is da numba I bn txting since i got it so i know its da rite one"
Oh man. Now I'm getting a bit annoyed. I'm on prepay. Each one of these darn txts is costing me .20c! (I should really switch to 2Degrees)
Just to make myself very clear, I txt Brandon a nice explanation of who I am...
"My name is Simone. I am 40yrs old. I have 3 kids. I don't know anyone calld Brandon!"
Brandon txts back: "K"
Phew he has finally got it!!! But then... Beep! Beep!
Brandon has reconsidered.
He says: "Well how come u txt me 2 call u yesterday and u sent me the num and i called u and Melissa pick up tha phone"
Oh Brandon. Brandon Brandon.
Whoever this Mily is, she gave you the wrong num.
Or you wrote it down wrong.
Really. I am not faking you out. I really am a forty year old mother of three called Simone and I have never heard of you. I'm not Mily pretending to not know you. Poor spotty hormonal kid! He must be feeling really bad thinking that Mily doesn't want 2 txt wit him.
All I can do is ignore your txty pleas or you are going to make me run out of credit. I really hope you figure it out.
Good luck with Mily. I think you're gonna need it.
xx
