We’ve all received text messages containing epithets and terrible grammar that were obviously meant for someone else.
Maybe these are common because some people lose their phones and all their numbers? Here’s an example of public squalor a friend shared with me:
Spelling “lying” as “lien” aside, this leaves much room for speculation. A few months ago, some anonymous texter plucked my number out of the ether and started a conversation. After three messages, I foolishly responded as if I was the intended recipient:
I tried to mask my knowledge of English with phrases such as “wuz bizzy,” but as you may know, replicating the wild grammatical cadence of a ghetto text can be dicey. What started as me playing along with a mistaken message spiraled into a full-on discussion. I tried to keep it insane to tip her off that I wasn’t Lala.
Then came the degeneration. I tried to back out of the exchange by texting once for every four or five of her missives.
This chick is calling me all the time and I’m not answering (hence the name Ghetto Don’t Answer). Still trying my best to keep it outlandish, I devolve into infrequent and nonsensical outbursts:
Yep. I resorted to just texting “Sprite.” The texts from Ghetto Don’t Answer were becoming more threatening by the minute.
I think you can see from the first text that drugs of some kind are involved. This “candy” reference is continually thrown about in a cool and casual manner. I’m no longer amused by this game and the texts are reaching a heightened level of fervor. I decided to call it and throw out the “you have the wrong number” text.
Waaaaay too late for the “you have the wrong number” text. Crap. Now this girl is threatening me with video evidence! I’d hate to be the real chick this bitch is mad at. The train is about to officially come off the tracks. Right about now is when I started getting these voicemails:
Wow. That took a turn for the worse. I was really hoping we could settle this shit with that “you have the wrong number” message. This is when I go on the AT&T website and find out how to block numbers. It should be noted that the voicemails came from a different number than the texts; I stopped answering Ghetto Don’t Answer long ago.
Breathe easy. Now that the numbers are blocked, everyone should rest assured that there will be no more communication with these lunatics. Right? Well, I did get one extra text:
Hmmm. A photo of a BMW in a parking garage that includes an ominous yet poorly punctuated message. This was part of a group text, so it blasted through my feeble number block. These savages are really too much. Part of me wishes that the girls who harassed me weren’t going to stab that other chick, but at least I tried. At the end of the day, all the Sprite in the world won’t can’t stop “grown bitches” from getting they “candy sticks.”