Wea

I love hosting people: the cooking, the cracking up, and the conversation (not so much the cleaning, but I digress). Last night, I invited a group of friends over. Korey and I planned on making a big dinner, but then duty called, quite literally, and he returned to Richmond. I recently befriended Korey's close friend Alex, and Korey told Alex and his twin, Alan, about dinner at my apartment. Korey then sent me Alex's number.

Fast forward a few hours. People arrive at my apartment as I cook oryx sausage, noodles, and spaghetti sauce. We eat dinner, and I recall texting Alex slipped my mind.

Hey! I didn't text you earlier, but you guys should still come over! It's Becca, by the way, I shoot from my phone into the cosmos.
Wea I know u frm, returns to me.

"Um... PJ, what does this even mean?" I ask as I turn to my friend in confusion.
"Wea. Like Way-ah. Where," PJ answers with a chuckle.
"Weird."

Camp... Church....  I respond, a little confused. He told Korey he planned on coming over. Plus, I'm confident that Alex knows how to spell "where".

My phone begins to sing as Alex's number calls. I pick up and walk to the other side of the room.

"How I know you?" the caller mumbles.
"Um... I'm confused. Is this Alex?" I reply.
"No, this is [insert muddled name beginning with 'K']. So, how you get my number?" not Alex inquires.
Our conversation lasted a little while as I tried to get off the phone and he tried to keep the conversation going. I'm pretty sure that he wanted Alex's invitation. Nope... not inviting you over, mister. Sorry. No, I don't know you.

I text Korey, get the real number, and Alex comes to liven up the rest of the our night. I baked cookies, and people made reckless "Apples to Apples" matches. Mr. K. did not join us, and I believe it was for the best.