After exchanging several boring facebook messages with Mr. Rx, my coworker who was cupid-ing us urged him (at my request) to step up his game. On June 21, Mr. Rx texted me. Our initial texts read as follows:
Mr. Rx: Hey it’s [Mr. Rx]. Let me know how your schedule for next week and hopefully we can set something up. I have to train till about 10 tonight so that kind of kills today.
Princess MoMo: Are you training for a dance recital? Any night Monday through Thursday is fine next week.
Mr. Rx: Humm, not quite. Not a very good dancer, I do a mean booty drop though. Thursday is karate. Mon and Wed I work till 9, Tues I’m done at 8. I can train Fri if you want to go out Thurs.
Princess MoMo: Thursday is good. Be prepared to show me that booty drop.
Mr. Rx: Mmm yes ma’am.
Princess MoMo: Would you like to talk when your ballet practice is over tonight?
Mr. Rx: Ha sure I’ll call you in about 30 min, we’re having a quick meeting.
Princess MoMo: Still voting on which shade of pink tutus to order?
Mr. Rx: Definitely has to be hot pink. Call you in 5
[More than 30 minutes elapse.]
Princess MoMo: Your time estimates are almost as unbelievable as your grammar. Goodnight.
We ended up speaking briefly. The conversation was decent though it was hard to understand him over the phone. (I blame that on his iphone voice quality.) He told me that he had mentioned to his parents (before he and I spoke) that his friend was setting him up. But, after I commented on his grammar to his friend/my coworker, he told his parents that it wasn’t going to work out because he’s used to doing the correcting. Nevertheless, he accepted the correcting and began to shape up grammatically.
The next day, we exchanged the following texts:
Mr. Rx: Daddy has a migraine, hopefully your day is going better than mine.
Princess MoMo: Daddy?!
Mr. Rx: Haha. Listen here, I don’t know who you think is in charge. Allow me to clarify this for you :)
Princess MoMo: I will let you operate under that false illusion until we meet, pumpkin.
Mr. Rx: 60hr work week. Can I get a foot massage?
Princess MoMo: You need a brain massage, but that will be hard to do because it seems as though you’ve lost your damn mind.
* * *
Princess MoMo: Did you tell your parents that you talked to me and that I am super awesome?
Mr. Rx: Something like that. I told them you need some training but that I think I can work with it ;)
Princess MoMo: [Mr. Rx], darling, you are in for a rude awakening. And by rude awakening, I mean of the insomniac night terrors variety.
Mr. Rx: I’m somewhat turned on by that statement
I was a bit taken aback by the nature of his text messages, but it was clear he was merely posturing. Date one was scheduled for June 28. The day before, Mr. Rx and I texted the following:
Mr. Rx: I assume I’m picking you up right? I suppose that would be the proper thing to do.
Princess MoMo: Up to you. If you pick me up, I am more of a captive audience because I won’t have a convenient get-away vehicle.
Mr. Rx: Please, I will bring the tissues for when it’s time to go home. Try to keep the sobbing to minimum.
Princess MoMo: By tissues, I assume you mean celebratory confetti.
My coworker forewarned me that Mr. Rx had a pronounced habit of being late. I told him to make sure Mr. Rx was timely for our first encounter. I also told Mr. Rx myself.
TO BE CONTINUED….
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