“When he calls you back, act really cold,” my married friend H. orders. “Men love bitches.”
“But I don’t want to be a b---- ,” I answer lamely. “I just want him not to take me for granted.”
“And I just want my kids to stop eating craft supplies,” she answers, as toddlers shriek in the background.
“Ugh…I thought I was done playing games.”
“Listen,” she says, dropping her voice an octave. “You’re not done playing games until there’s a ring on your finger.”
“I’m not looking for a ring. I’m just trying to sort out my Saturday night plans.”
“Stop being so nice, sweetie, guys don’t wa—Mallory Ann, glue sticks don’t go in mouths!!!”
The line goes dead. And I’m left alone to ponder my pitiful lack of bitchiness."
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