People Keep Texting The Most Ridiculous Shit to My Work Phone
Lord forgive me, I’m back on my bullshit. For those new to the blog, I have a company-provided cell phone for business and stuff. iPhone 7. Pretty legit. Since I don’t travel, I basically have no use for it besides checking my calendar before I go to bed. HOWEVER, its true value is for entertainment purposes. I get some WILD texts, clearly meant for the dude who had the number before me. And let’s just say that he’s an interesting cat.
Back in February, I played along with someone who texted me and boy was that a wild ride. Learned a lot. Check out the post, People Who Text My Work Phone for a little context on who this guy is.
Here’s a basic layout for those too lazy to click a goddam link.
- His name is Khyri. Also goes by the Enoch
- He is probably some sort of college student
- He used to work at Red Lobster
- May have killed someone (?)
- Lives with a guy named Dionte
- Needs to finance some debt. Maybe looking for a mortgage
- Is gay (nothing wrong with that just a fact)
- May be a drug dealer still not sure
Since then, I’ve made it a habit to respond to random texts I get. Usually, they’re like homework questions about how to find an assignment on Blackboard and the conversation goes nowhere. But a few weeks back, I had another insane encounter and had to share with my loyal WRDies. Enjoy
A bit more background- last September I got the below text. This was when I really started to pick up on the fact that Khyri was living a wild life. Number and face have been removed for privacy’s sake
This was before the conversation with rjennete– at the time, I didn’t know that our friend Khyri was gay. When people kept texting him for hook-ups, I honestly thought he was a drug dealer. If that’s racist, I’m sorry. However, this one really rattled me. Either Khyri is a girl’s name or this guy has the wrong number. Honestly didn’t cross my mind he was gay. Again, I’m sorry. That’s my straight white male bias talking and I will get better.
As you see, I decided not to play along. Didn’t want that in my life. And also it was like 8:15 am as you can see. Brain does not work yet.
Then the whole fiasco with rjennete@gmail happened and I realized this was a booty call. Made it 10x funnier. But I kind of forgot about it and moved on with my life……
….Until I get this text from the SAME NUMBER.
A lot to unpack here. Clearly, Khyri and this strapping fellow had a pretty memorable encounter. Guy won’t stop bringing up this whole doorbell thing. Seems like there was a bit of confusion whether it was 4:30 or 5 am but I’ll let it slide.
Regardless, it was spicy enough that our friend feels the need to text him a full 9 months later from his original text. Additionally, let’s keep time stamps in mind. These are texts with clear sexual undertones that he’s sending at 8 am and 11 am. Where does he find the time?
I decide to throw him a bone. Maybe see where this goes. Reallyyy start to turn him on. And he bites. Hook line and sinker. What am I about to do?
Immediately felt weird and cat-fishy. Decided to change direction and maybe talk a bit about my career. I assume Khyri is a respectable man and he wouldn’t want to dive right into the dirty talk.
Goldman Slacks is a hilarious name for a pants store. In my dream world, it’s located next to Joseph A Bank, which is an actual bank. Consumers will be super confused as to where they can satisfy their banking needs and where to quench their trouser thirst. I’ll be laughing to the bank (the actual bank)*
*Please credit 50% of that joke to my roommate. He never reads these but in case he does, I don’t want him mad at me. Moving on.
Anyways, clearly this guy is having none of my small business or art dreams. Cuts right to the chase, asking for pics at 3 pm on a work day. Gotta love the forwardness.
At this point I felt weird. Like this was wayyy more than I signed up for. Gig is up. I’m just a simple pants seller looking to make it in this cutthroat world.
I decide to cut my ties and move on. I genuinely wish him good luck and hope he and Khyri reconnect. Maybe at his bell at 4:45 am, maybe not.
Are all guys like this? I feel bad for girls now. This is fucking relentless. Even when I try to steer the conversation back to my growing pants business, he’s not interested. Just wants a pic of my sexy body. I have a brain and dreams too pal.
This is truly truly mindblowing to me. In what world does he get a picture from me, a random guy who jokingly responded to a wrong number text?
But then I start thinking – wouldn’t that be sort of…romantic? Maybe he’s just waiting for that special “kool random” to stumble into his life and turn it upside down. Guys like that deserve happiness. I’ll oblige. Plus, he followed up with a “no good?” text within 3 minutes. He was clearly getting antsy and I have no idea what he’s capable of. So I had no choice.
I found this picture on Twitter in like March and have been waiting for the perfect time to use it. Turns out, all I had to do was catfish a grown man until he becomes uncomfortably aggressive and sexually forward. That was the secret all along.
If you liked that, check out the first part of the work phone saga HERE. Just click it- I’ve literally included the link 6 times in the blog. I need the traffic guys. And while you’re at it, click a bunch of the ads on the side of page. Ad sales are plateauing and investors are getting PISSED. And then, why don’t you go ahead and follow us on Instagram @WorkRetireDie. We’re almost at 1,000 followers so you know it’s cool. We drop daily memes that I spend hours creating so you can have a .2 second laugh before moving on with your life. Fair trade off. And since you’re here, how about you click the follow button at the bottom of the blog so you get added to the email list. Ok?? Could you do that for me buddy? Maybe you go out and tell 100 friends and/or strangers you see on the street about your favorite blog in America? Huh?? Pissing me off. Jk love you WRDies.