And So Much the Better

Story Sent in by James:

Brittany and I actually had a great date. I expected it to be just dinner and drinks but it went on and on, into the night. We talked about how we both wanted to move down south, how we both liked cooking the same things, and even, amazingly, that we both had a childhood stuffed animal with the same name. I wasn't even expecting her to kiss me goodnight, but she made the move and we did. For all intents and purposes, it was a great date.

I called her the next day and left a message, as I wanted to set up a second date with her. She called me up almost immediately afterward and screamed profanities at me. I tried to cut in to ask her what was wrong but she just screamed and yelled right over me. It was clear that she was incredibly upset about something but I didn't know what it was. And listening to her non-stop yelling wasn't helping. So I decided to hang up and wait until she cooled down.

She called me back at once and I let it go to voicemail. Then she called again. Then again. Then again. And again. And again. Thirteen times, total. Each of her messages was a profanity-laced scream-fest and I couldn't hear a single coherent point among any of it. I texted her, "What's wrong? Can you talk to me like a normal person?"

She called me again and I let it go to voicemail. If it was possible, her venom was redoubled (retripled?) and I simply couldn't understand what had gone wrong. She left me two more messages and then stopped. I decided to not contact her until she cooled down.

A bit more than five years later we crossed paths at a mutual friend's party. Brittany was married, had two kids, and was pregnant with a third. I remembered how our last interactions went but I still tried to be nice. I asked her how she was.

She replied, "I'm still upset at you."

I said, "About what? You never told me what made you fly off the handle."

She replied, "Excuse me," and then went to talk to some other people. I guess I'll never know.