So tell me exactly what you’re wearing.
A pervy wrong number? I wiped my nose and typed: Your mom’s wedding dress and her favorite thong.
No more than five seconds went by before Mr. Wrong Number texted: Um, what?
I texted: Seriously, babe, I thought you’d think it’s hot.
Mr. Wrong Number: “Babe”? Wtf?
That actually made me snort out a tiny laugh, the thought of some dude getting cold-showered via text. It was super weird that babe was where he was getting tripped up, as opposed to the monstrosity of an oedipal-lingerie suggestion, but he’d also used the tired what are you wearing line, so who could really say about a guy like that?
I texted: Would you prefer something less mommish?
Mr. Wrong Number: Oh, no—it sounds totally hot. You cool with me rocking cargo shorts, socks with sandals, and your dad’s jockstrap?