I hate when they call me ‘babe.’
"Ryan. Hey. What's up?"
"I'm uh... I'm sorry if I was rude last night."
Well, you certainly were a strung out mess when you called me at whatever ungodly hour it was.
"You weren't exactly being rude, you—"
"I was so fucking wasted."
Yep, don’t love it when they cut me off mid-sentence either.
"Yep. You were."
"So, what are you up to?"
Well, it's a Thursday morning, so...
And you're probably still drunk.
"Do you want to hang out later?"
Nope. Not really.
"I could come stay at your place tonight."
Boy, you have some nerve.
"I don't know about that…"
"I've been thinking a lot about you lately... It's been way too long."
And there's good reason for that.
"Yeah, it has been a while."
"Come on, baby. I've missed you."
Ugh, 'baby' is even worse than ‘babe.’
"Yeah, you might have mentioned that last night."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you like that. I was so wrecked. I don't even remember what I said." You know what.