the booty text

We have all received them at one time or another, and quite frankly, a new phenonmenon has taken over. And I am NOT feeling it. The previously celebrated BOOTY CALL, an invitation for hot sex placed at late hours between two consenting adults, is now an endangered species. Electronic Evolution has taken over, and with the onset of text messages, it has been replaced by none other than the booty text.

Yes, booty text.

It has an awful ring, doesn't it?

This is because where the booty call often initiated sexy bantor between two horny individuals through human-like communication, the booty text just leaves you feeling dirty, like internet porn. The booty text offers no intimacy. It offers no opportunity to get excited at the sound of your lover's voice. It does not entice you to leave where ever you may be (at home, the club, a dinner, out with friends, Alaska etc.) at ungodly hours so that you can properly get your freak on and climb a wall:

"So... wassup? hun." Sunday. 3:09 a.m.

This? This after our last encountered ended over a month ago with me saying "I'm not interested in the late night creep" because (sigh) I actually want a relationship. So, as most twenty-something year old males do, they pretend to be deaf, disregard and choose not to give a shit about a woman's feelings. The ironic thing is that he might have gotten some if he would have at least respected the art of the booty call. You can imagine my disappointment. So I did what I thought was best. I looked at the phone, ignored how bad I wanted him, and then went back to bed, only to respond the next morning:

"Was asleep with you texted. Holla at me later...." Sunday, 11:01 a.m.

This I thought would somehow send the signal that I was not a whore, and that if he preferred to communicate in an adult fashion, we could do so at a later time.

Again, I must have not made myself clear. He did not "holla at me later." Instead he waited over 24 hrs to reply, and which point, he felt it necessary to put me back in my place, letting me know that I was nothing more than a crap shoot:

"I just though i'd take a chance with u sat. night. I was all ready to 'go' that night." Monday, 9:46 p.m.

So I did what any self-respecting woman would have done:

"Lose my phone number" Monday, 9:48 p.m.

Silly boy.... texts are for kids.