"You won't be seeing me tonight, Cobain." She sighed. "Good." I retorted, "Cuz I hate looking at you." She laughed, "Whatever loser." "Ask her how she got your number!" Dave whispered. "How did you get my number any way?" I asked, her end went silent. "Is that silence I hear? Nirvana Jones has not one single smart-ass comment to fling at me like a pile of shit? Well fuck me sideways!" I jeered. Dave and I slapped fives once more. "I found your number cuz I'm four rooms down from yours and decided that leaving a bag of dog shit in front of your door might get me kicked out." She retorted. I laughed, "That was so eleventh grade! Grow up!" "Some things never get old." She sighed. "Yeah like that time I reported to the entire school that you maturbated to Lucille Balls pictures in the boys bathroom!" I said fighting back laughter. Dave patted me on my back like a proud father. "I gotta go. I hate you." she said. "Yeah likewise. I hope you fall in a ditch." I replied. "Asshole." She sneered, "Bitch." I hung up.