( the list of people who've actually made her sad is a different, more depressing list, but - you know, it's late at night and she's had a couple of drinks and a wrong number seems like such a safe way to shout frustration into the void about all the current ridiculous ills of her life. there's an appealing anonymity, so there's also a delay before she texts back again, debating - )
It's Gwen. Wynne-York, if you're fishing to google my bum.
( that's a joke. but hey, it's also a name on a guest list for the white house tomorrow representing a philanthropic foundation that frequently partners with wynne-york the elder for fundraising events around the world. fingerguns. )
One, I think we need to establish some kind of upper limit on how many people I can crowbar for you. Three is reasonable - maybe four.
And two, I think you'll have more self-control than you let on at the dinner tomorrow. Though if you do happen to imbibe and let slip a few obscenities around me, consider yourself forgiven.
[ Take some time to let it sink in, then: ]
I'm so sorry, where are my manners? This is President Bartlet.
( what does she do. what would a reasonable person do in this situation. do reasonable people get themselves into situations like this. probably not. but that's why she will have better stories for her grandchildren than they will - )
In that case Wesley Lode (you have to check it isn't his twin brother but you'll know because Tad moves a lot slower), my father in a sort of preemptively corrective way (maybe just menace him with it?) before he can flirt with your wife and Lord Marbury because I've heard it's only a matter of time.
( have you ever seen a cat fuck up the landing and just walk off like nothing happened and it doesn't know what you're talking about? yeah. )
I think I'll leave Lord Marbury for Leo. Denying him the satisfaction would be cruel.
[ It happens to the best of us, Gwen. What matters is that you can walk away from this. In a few weeks, you'll probably even be able to laugh about it. ]
This is usually where people get flustered. You're taking the shock remarkably well.
I mean, this is in the top twenty most absurd situations I've been in and the top ten for ones that are at least partially my own fault, but it's stiff competition, and you're being very nice about it.
I have almost no flaws aside from my appalling taste in men, lack of restraint when it comes to texting back wrong numbers, tolerance for other people's bad behaviour, willingness to provide lists of people to get crowbarred and I think my actual personality.
I'm going to tell you now I was at a Catholic boarding school where half the mums had had it off with my dad at some point, which I think is where I learned to respond to the absurd with aplomb. And that I can top that story with the rest of them.
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It's Gwen. Wynne-York, if you're fishing to google my bum.
( that's a joke. but hey, it's also a name on a guest list for the white house tomorrow representing a philanthropic foundation that frequently partners with wynne-york the elder for fundraising events around the world. fingerguns. )
no subject
Well, Ms. Wynne-York, two things:
One, I think we need to establish some kind of upper limit on how many people I can crowbar for you. Three is reasonable - maybe four.
And two, I think you'll have more self-control than you let on at the dinner tomorrow. Though if you do happen to imbibe and let slip a few obscenities around me, consider yourself forgiven.
[ Take some time to let it sink in, then: ]
I'm so sorry, where are my manners? This is President Bartlet.
[ POW! Right in the kisser! ]
i/ii.
like so many errors
literally nothing but errors has led to this moment in time except for the part where she has the presence of mind to screencap that for posterity. )
ii.
In that case Wesley Lode (you have to check it isn't his twin brother but you'll know because Tad moves a lot slower), my father in a sort of preemptively corrective way (maybe just menace him with it?) before he can flirt with your wife and Lord Marbury because I've heard it's only a matter of time.
( have you ever seen a cat fuck up the landing and just walk off like nothing happened and it doesn't know what you're talking about? yeah. )
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I think I'll leave Lord Marbury for Leo. Denying him the satisfaction would be cruel.
[ It happens to the best of us, Gwen. What matters is that you can walk away from this. In a few weeks, you'll probably even be able to laugh about it. ]
This is usually where people get flustered. You're taking the shock remarkably well.
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Perhaps you can tell me about the other nineteen tomorrow night?
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I'm going to tell you now I was at a Catholic boarding school where half the mums had had it off with my dad at some point, which I think is where I learned to respond to the absurd with aplomb. And that I can top that story with the rest of them.
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I don't doubt it.
I'll see you tomorrow night, Ms. Wynne-York.