What We Have Here Is A Failure to Communicate

So here I am, sitting at work at 7:00pm on Halloween. Yes, I'm a winner. The joys of having a go/no-go decision on going live to be made the day after Halloween. About half an hour ago, my cell phone rang. It was a number I didn't recognize, but against my better judgement decided to pick it up.

"This is BH"
"Hi BH, this is Sean."
Silence
"Sean from Ren Faire."
Silence
"Sean from Golden Gate Faire...a couple months ago."
Silence and then
(cautiously)"Hiiiii...."
"Do you remember me?"
"I'm working on it."

It took me about 3 minutes to figure out who it was. I gave this guy my number literally over 2 months ago. He calls me on Halloween? Then asks what I've been up to since the last time we talked? Uh dude, I don't even know when that was. You're kidding right?

Basically he was trying to decide if he wanted to spend Halloween (amateur night - my opinion) in SF or not and decided to call who he knew in SF. Men seriously just don't get it do they?

So we were making small talk for a bit and I found it mildly entertaining, in that piss me off sort of way, that anytime I would start to speak to answer a question, he would just begin talking over me on some inane topic. What was I ever thinking giving this tool my number? Anyway, the conversation ends with, "Well hey, give me a call sometime and we'll get together." I respond with, "Should I wait two months?" He said, "Well, you know, whenever you're not busy." Somehow I think the irony was lost.

And men wonder why we often think they are idiots. :-)

This moment of lunacy was brought to you by the letter S and the number 2.