For a Good Time, Text Callista

Somewhere in the city, scrawled across a graffiti-ridden brick wall was that stupid phrase along with her phone number. A sudden barrage of dick pics and texts had alerted her something was up, but it wasn’t until someone sent her a picture of the words did she realize someone out there was a huge douche. Callista wasn’t exactly a social butterfly sure, and occasionally she’d forget tone was important when shooting down plans, but did she really deserve to have her number given out to the whole city?

On a whim, she replied to one of the more harmless looking texts. It wasn’t all genital selfies and occasionally there’d be a text asking a random question about what bars to visit or even just a lonely person wanting someone to talk to for the night. Turns out, Callista was an ace at suggesting just the right place for evening plans. She wasn’t so bad at giving advice or just being there with encouraging words when someone venting out their life’s problems, either. When her own life went down the crapper – she lost her job, her apartment, had to drop out of school and start living in her car – Callista at least felt pretty good about the anonymous strangers she helped via text.

If she’d known the sorts of people she was replying too, maybe she wouldn’t have been so quick to answer them.

That morning started off like most of her mornings, these days. Callista got out of her car and dropped into the local coffee shop to order something cheap, but edible and then wash herself up in the bathroom. Once seated by a window, she used the free wi-fi to search for jobs on her laptop. There were so many available, it should’ve have been a problem to find one. Even just a part time gig in a fast food joint would’ve been, but Callista was having the worst luck getting someone to hire her. Positions were always filled or her interview would get trashed. The past year had been such a nightmare that sometimes she thought about tipping herself off the bridge right into the river.

Of course she wasn’t going to. But the thought was always there.

Her phone buzzing on the table perked her up, though. The chances of it being a call-back about one of her applications was nil at this point, and it could always be another sad looking penis, but one of those weird random texts would at least be a highlight for her day. Callista plucked her phone up and thumbed to her messages to see what fate had in store for her.

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