Unknown
Told you I loved Italian. World’s best lasagna.
My stomach growls but my eyes grow when I spy the to-go container in the picture. I know exactly where this picture was taken and now I’m so jealous.
Me
OMG is that MARIO’s?
Those three little dots appear that tells me whoever I’m texting is writing back.
Unknown
Wait…you know Mario’s?
Me
Heck yes! It’s my favorite Italian place! My dad and I go there often. He’s a sucker for their fettuccine alfredo. Does that mean you actually live in Anaheim?
Unknown
Ah. I’m usually a chicken parm kind of guy but tonight the lasagna was calling to me. And yeah, I’m in Anaheim. Why?
I gasp when I read the last text. “It’s a guy.”
I don’t know why I’m surprised by that given I had no reason to think I was talking to a girl the other night. It actually surprises me that he thought to write me at all. I had already deleted the random text from my phone without another thought.
He must be lonely.
I chuckle to myself, though I shouldn’t be laughing at all. A man eating his favorite Italian food by himself isn’t that much different from what I’m about to do.
Plus, he never said he was alone.
Ew, I hope he’s not on a date because that would be hella weird.
Mr. Stranger
Oh, I just reread your text. So, you’re telling me you sent a text to me the other day instead of your dad and managed to find someone who also lives in Anaheim and not on the other side of the country? That’s impressive.
Me
I’m also a chicken parm kind of girl but when you want good food, fast, Chinese is the way to go. And…yeah…I guess I did. Though to be fair, there’s only a one-digit difference between your number and the correct number so maybe it shouldn’t surprise me that your number is also an Anaheim number.
My doorbell rings, alerting me to my dinner delivery. I thank the woman standing outside with my food in her hands and give her an extra tip for delivering it while it’s still hot. Once inside, I grab a fork, a spoon, and my chopsticks along with a few extranapkins and then set up my to-go containers on my coffee table. My chopsticks in hand, I open the container of dumplings and snap a quick picture.
I toss my phone on the floor beside me and flick on the television to the latest episode ofSay Yes To The Dress. Why I have some sort of obsession with this show, I’ll never know. Maybe it’s that gut feeling that I’ll never be one of those brides, especially now that I’m basically starting all over again in the relationship department. Twenty-six and single in California doesn’t seem possible, but here I am eating Chinese take-out on my living room floor all by myself.
My phone dings next to me and I glance down at it as I stuff a dumpling into my mouth.
Mr. Stranger
Except I got my phone when I was living on the east coast. So, you’re a girl, huh?
Me
Last time I checked. And oh…so I guess I must just have magical powers then. Fancy that.
Swallowing my mouthful of dumpling I look down at my phone again, cringing at what I really want to say to this guy.