Hey, you, if you're reading this, STOP callling me.
If a woman gives you a go-round as a potential booty-call playmate then never calls again, the bottom line is that you didn't make the second interview.
Don't call me at five in the morning, don't call me on Sunday, don't ask me when I stupidly pick up the phone because I didn't save your damn number and thus don't have clue who it is if I want to "come on over" without even identifying who you are. (Remember, you're the one who assumed you were the only NSA booty in my life, an illusion I quickly disabused you of. Short memory, my friend.)
And for GODSAKES don't call me when the whole fucking city is under black-out and ask me if I want to cross the bridge to come to your place?!?! ON FOOT???? Are you fucking KIDDING me??? The cock wasn't hot enough. If it were, I would have called you.
I'm sorry, I wanted to avoid saying this, but jesus christ take a hint.
(And to all the people who are going to snap back with some comment which will include the word "whore" or "slut" .... eat me.)