So I respond: Who is this?
Grant. He responds. Grant is from Ogden, old friend from high school, divorced. And this was totally out of the blue.
I need a favor. He says.
Me: What's that?
Come with me to a Halloween party tomorrow. I'm in a pinch. He texts back.
In a pinch, huh? Why's that? I ask. Because I haven't heard from Grant in months. Months people. And I hate to be his last option when he's "in a pinch." The last I heard came in an email divorce "announcement" for lack of a better word. Which I thought was kind of tacky, but really, how else do you get the word out so that people can avoid that awkward "Where's your wife?" "Oh, we're divorced now," conversation?
Please, Harper. I'm begging. Which is followed by a picture text of Grant on his knees begging and let me tell you, he doesn't look too shabby, that Grant. He lost 129 pounds of blonde bimbo and that does a lot for a guy's looks.
So long story short, I am going to Halloween party numero dos tomorrow night. Why can I not return to my reclusive state? I am not a bowler. I am not a party-goer. I stay at home and enjoy my quiet peaceful life. I hang with my family and girlfriends occasionally. I don't go to parties. Please let this one work out differently than last week's. I guess it is time for a new pair of wings.
