Story Sent in by Alicia:
Not long after we sat down to dinner on our very first date, Barry slid an index card across the table to me. I flipped it over, and printed in black ink was the number 312.
Thinking it was some sort of game, I asked him, "What does this mean? What are the rules?"
He shook his head and handed me another card, one with the number 200. I said, "I don't know what this means."
He sighed, but not in a teasing sort of way. He seemed genuinely exasperated. He handed me another card, this one with the number 166. At that point, I put all cards in front of me and tried to catch a pattern, but aside from each of the numbers being even, I couldn't figure out anything else about them.
Ultimately, I shrugged, thinking that he'd slide me another card that perhaps would make things a bit clearer. Instead, he grabbed the cards and said, "I should give you a board book instead. Here." He pulled out one of those See Spot Run board books.
I said, "I'm not illiterate, just–"
"You just suck ass at numbers."
I laughed and said, "Okay. So how was your day?"
"I'd rather think of what else you suck, other than ass. Can you help me figure it out?"
I stopped laughing. He was mad. What had I done? If anything, I ought to be the one losing patience. I said, "Would you rather not be here, Barry? We can call it an evening if you don't really want to be here with me, because you obviously–"
He shot his hand across the table and made to grab my arm, but I moved back and he couldn't reach. He sat back and said, "Come on, I didn't mean it. You didn't even try with the numbers, and that bothered me more than anything else."
I said, "I'd rather talk about you. About us. Can we play the numbers game later?"
He said, "We play it now or I make you suck my ass all night. Hard to talk about us when your mouth is full of ass, isn't it?"
I agreed. "You're right. Have a good night."
I stood and left, but he followed me out to the sidewalk, brandishing a stack of index cards in his hand. He said, "Don't be like this. You can pick out any number you want. I'll let you take one. Go ahead." He held the cards out to me.
I didn't bite. "Barry, forget about it. Seriously, have a good night and go away."
As I walked off, he shouted, "I'll take one out for you. You don't even have to do it yourself! There! I pulled out 90! Do you know what that means? Do you? Do you?"
As far as I was concerned, it meant that he would have a lonely, lonely night.
Story Sent in by Alicia: