The Atlanta Journal-Constitution

Mystery ‘texter’ creates awkward social dilemma

- Daryn Kagan Daryn Kagan is the author of “What’s Possible! 50 True Stories of People Who Dared To Dream They Could Make a Difference.”Email her at Daryn@darynkagan.com.

This week’s “Oh, No You Didn’t” Moment started with a single text message that popped up on my phone last Saturday.

“Hey, DK, thanks for the email,” it read. “How about breakfast or coffee tomorrow?”

“How lovely to get that invitation from a sweet friend!” you’re thinking. Yes. Only one problem. There was only an unfamiliar phone number attached to the text. No name. And there you have it — just one of the almost daily opportunit­ies I have to appear clueless.

Does this happen to you, too, Dear Reader?

You run into someone you know from the dog park, rememberin­g their dog’s name, but not theirs.

You see someone from three jobs ago at the movie theater, and can only think, “Good gosh, where do I know them from?”

Yes, the “Out of Context” Game is always fun.

Speaking of fun, I showed the mystery text to Husband, admitting, “I have no idea who this is.”

“Text back and ask,” Husband said in his Practical Man manner.

“I couldn’t do that!” I said horrified at that thought. “It would be too embarrassi­ng. Clearly, this person thinks I should know who this is.” Instead, I got creative. “Running with the ladies tomorrow,” I explained. “Wouldn’t be available, not to mention sweaty, until 10 a.m.”

Surely, that would get rid of the mystery texter.

“Perfect!” they quickly replied. “I’ll meet you at that cute café behind the grocery store.”

“So, now you have to ask,” Husband insisted.

“Not a chance. Now, I really can’t. They’ll know I just set up breakfast with someone I don’t know.”

“You’re just going to show up and see who walks in?” he said disbelievi­ng. “What if it’s a serial killer?”

“I didn’t email any serial killers I know of this week,” I said, half-sure.

“What’s she doing now?” one teen daughter yelled from her bedroom catching pieces of her mother’s latest crazy escapade.

I went in explaining my dilemma, recognizin­g the opportunit­y for a teachable moment.

“So, you see,” I explained. “There will be times in life when you need to choose between personal safety and public embarrassm­ent. I’m simply choosing to avoid public embarrassm­ent.”

“Mother of The Year” awards will, no doubt, soon be flooding in.

At that very moment the texting gods downloaded a gift.

Previous messages from the mystery texter suddenly filled the screen, revealing this was my friend who works at a local TV station who I had, indeed, emailed earlier in the week.

“I knew it all along!” I declared to Husband, who simply shook his head.

There I was Sunday morning, sweaty as promised, apologizin­g for my appearance.

“I wanted to see you, not your mascara,” my friend reassured me, reminding me I need to spend more time with people like her.

Clued in again. Oh, yes I am.

Which leads me to ask, “How do you handle clueless?” Email at Daryn@DarynKagan.com.

I might even pretend to know your name.

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