Jared has officially gone off the deep end with text messaging. The man might just be the slowest, most inefficient texter that I've ever known, but that doesn't mean he's not devoted. I learned of his new found interest in texting last month when I opened the cell phone bill--it was twenty dollars higher than normal.
After my exasperation wore off and I scotch taped the torn up bill back together, I combed through it to see who he was texting, because it definitely wasn't me. So who was it? It was three people: Courtney, Blake, Lehi.
Courtney is the girl who sits next to Jared in class. Yes, you read that right. They text each other all day long, and they sit next to each other in class...all day long. Apparently passing notes is no longer functional. In order to piss away hard earned tuition money, one must pay fifteen cents per message.
Blake and Lehi are Jared's BFFs. They both seem to be within twelve feet of my husband every time I call. When I scrolled though Jared's in and out box, their texting conversation went something like this:
Yo. Who farted?
Oh. Ur hair looks good today.
And there went seventy five cents, right down the pooper shoot.
This morning I had get to church early, so Jared and I took separate cars. As I walked out the door, Jared stopped me and said, "Hey, do you have your phone with you?"
"Um yeah. Why?"
"Oh, because I want you to send me a text to let me know where you're sitting."
I was like, "Excuse me? You want me to take out my phone, in church, and text you to let you know where I'm sitting?! No Jared, I won't do that."
And he dejectedly asked, "Well why not?"
"Because our church is the size of a tool shed, Jared. There are only eight rows in the entire chapel. I think you can manage to find me."