I was walking through the skywalk the other day when I overheard the following portion of a cell phone conversation:
"So, she kept calling me, so I finally answered it. And I was all, 'What do you want? Why do you keep calling me,' and she was all, 'You need to know that I'm 5 months pregnant' . . . OH, MY GOD . . . I know. It all makes sense now. It totally makes sense now. Why he has pictures of her on his phone, why he calls her all the time . . . He doesn't know that I look at his phone, but I do. . . . I know. So, I called him and was like, 'You are so busted. Carrie just called me and told me that she's 5 months pregnant."
It was 8:30 in the morning. Isn't that a little early for baby- daddy drama? Keep in mind that I don't hear very well. This woman was loud. Yikes.
This whole scenario was foreign to me. When I was a college student, the most dramatic relationship issue I encountered was that my boyfriend and I had incompatible tastes in music.
News that makes me giddy: The VIVA is supposedly coming on Thursday.
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Ever read Overheard in New York? Great stuff.
The most relationship drama I had in college was when this girl I was pseudo-dating took a job at an ice cream place in the next town. Did I mention she didn't own a car and just assumed that I'd drive her every day? I took her exactly once before getting so massively angry that we were screaming at each other on the way back. She turned into a drama llama and yelled, "Fine! Just stop the car and let me out right here!" So I called her bluff. We were about half a mile from campus, and I made her get out of the car and walk the rest of the way back. At least this clarified the nature of our pseudo-dating relationship extremely quickly.
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