78. Oops

I wasn’t quite done talking with Jeff yet, but excused myself when I received a text from Richie. I had texted him earlier with a question about some software he had told me about.

Richie: Who is this?

(He always messes with me like this, so I just played along.)

Me: Your dad, Jackass!

Richie: Nice try. My dad is dead.

(Ouch! A little harsh, don’t you think?)

Me: What the hell, dude? I wanted you to remind me of the name of that drawing app you like.

Richie: Who is this?

Me: Check my number, dude. It’s Dad!

Richie: If you’re my dad, then what’s my name?

Me: Richie Poophead.

Richie: If you are not going to say who you are, then fuck off. I don’t have time for immature bullshit.

Me: Dude! I’m your dad. Now cut the crap and tell me the name of the app!

Richie: Keep texting. I will have the authorities find you!

Me: I’m your dad. I am the authority!

Richie: Fuck off.

Okay, this was getting a little over the line. I’d certainly never okayed talking to me like that. Then my phone rang. The call display said it was Richie.

It was some guy. He sounded like he was in his twenties.

Turns out the free texting app Richie uses had assigned his number to someone else. Of course, I apologized profusely.

I looked back to Jeff. “Did you know what was happening there?”

He grinned. “I’m omniscient.”

“You could have told me.”

“Is that what you would have done?”

He had a point.