Fat Paul Bunyun Fuck

Bitsie's tryst with Hagen started with a dance floor makeout. It was on the sloppy side, but what the hell. That's why you play kickball, right? To get drunk, meet people, and maybe get a little tail.
They planned a date. Never happened, but the text messages continued. "Hey, we're going to Adams Morgan. Wanna join?" or "Going out. You?"
It felt nice to be summoned every weekend--to be wanted that often. But the messages felt phony, a little vague for real dating material, but what could she do? Call him out on it? Meh.
Five months after first meeting him, Bitsie had yet to actually rendezvous with the text-happy gentleman again. She got one of his polite messages asking for her company, but had the creeping suspicion that his wooing was a sort of mass-courtship of many females in his LG Chocolate. She decided in drunken audacity to call him out on his cell-phone queries. The digital banter was one for the ages.

Hagen: Hey we're going to dupont tonight, what are you up to?
Bitsie: Dude I haven't seen you in months. Why do you keep texting me?
Bitsie's Friend, Posing as Bitsie: Yo I only fuck black dudes sorry
H: Sorry, it's no problem, i was just trying to be nice; you're just one of a multitext i send out. I guess at the time i thought you were a friend, my bad.
B: Group texts are lame. That's so fucking lazy.
H: When you have as many friends as i do it just makes more sense, i wouldn't expect you to understand; don't worry i'll take you off the list.
B: Oh my god I'm so sorry I didn't realize I was dealing with the most popular douche bag in the tri-state region. Damn I should have felt cool. to be on your list.
H (received the next morning): I Truly am sorry, i thought i knew who tha tmessage was going to; that message was not meant for bitches,.. have a good life you fat paul-bunyun fuck:)

Tri-state area? Paul Bunyun? Bitsie soon decided that love in the tri-state was going to be more challenging than she could have ever imagined.