I'll Be Back Next Week. Or, How I Became a Prize Idiot.

That was the stupidest idea ever, getting some random guy to give Ralph my number. STUPID. I feel like a prize idiot. Which is probably because I am one. Ralph stopped looking across into our store, and it's entirely possible that he was hiding from me when I was talking to my friend in our store today. God. I should have just kept talking to him. Now we probably won't be friends. I feel like such a dick.

My friend, we'll call him Public Enemy Number 1 went into their store and said, "Sixteen Secrets likes you, here's her number." Ralph said, "thanks," although according to Public Enemy Number 1 it sounded more like, 'fuck off.' He hasn't texted me. I'm not surprised at all. I'd be running for the hills if I were him. Do I talk to him when I get back and act like nothing happened, or do I talk to him and apologise for my friend's behaviour and say how embarrassed I am?

Sigh. I'll be back in a week, with hopefully more inspiring tales than this.