Ladies, ask any single guy friend who will let you, to go through his address book.  If your single guy friends are as painfully machismo and immature as mine, then you will be highly entertained by the names some men have women saved under.

Men, I challenge you too. Drop this line in the group chat for your single guy friends. “What are the 3 wildest names you have women saved as in your phone?”

I have a guy friend who’s dating a girl nicknamed “Laptop.”  Why? Because his best friend said every time she’s at his house, she always has her head in her damn laptop.

Then we have the classic car make & model nickname. Right, that’s the girl saved as “Prius” who drives the silver Prius or “Big Body Benz” but her name is really Stephanie.  I’m sure there’s a double entendre in there somewhere. There’s also the sexual innuendos like “No Hands” and “👅🔥🍑”

I actually challenge you to ask your married friends who cheat as well- they tend to have the best nicknames. Tell them to include the women they have saved under their friends’ names you know like Chris Cell is really Chris but Chrisss Cell is really Christina.

I’m here to keep it honest…. and fun, right? Moving along.  A few years back, I found out I was saved under quite possibly the worst name ever. And no it wasn’t “Becky with the good hair.”

While some readers are familiar with my relationship history, I’ve been able to keep some of you in the dark – I was in a relationship with a notable NBA player for 3 years. In that 3 years we broke up & made up a couple times. During 1 of those breaks I met an ashole, I mean manchild, I mean guy. Yeah let’s run with that, a guy we will call Anthony. However, sure enough in typical fashion with my ex, we reconciled and Anthony was immediately removed from my life.

It was only 7 months before my ex and I ended again, but this time it was abrupt & unfortunately, highly publicized.  Every guy, and I mean every guy who’d come in contact with me in my whole life reconnected with me attempting to offer “comfort.” Anthony was at the front of the line. But something about his style of comfort was different and at times it didn’t feel like comfort at all. He would tell me how he knew it would’ve never worked with my ex, how I needed someone who valued me, how I needed to be with a guy like him.  It was almost as if Anthony felt satisfaction that my relationship was over. Occasionally, he would even make jokes about my ex. I initially entertained his corny humor but remembered thinking it was kind of unnecessary. Eventually, I grew uncomfortable with his jokes – there was a vindictive smell all over it.

But of course, I wrote it off his competitive nature on the male ego. He felt he had already “lost me” to my ex. Just 9 months before, I deleted and blocked his number and & rode off into the sunset. Anthony wasn’t going to “lose” this time around and he was all in.

One night we went to dinner with a group of his friends and then bowling after. Drinks were flowing and by the end of the night Anthony had “lost” his phone.

Sidenote: Is it just me or is no night of drinking complete without someone “losing” their phone before you leave?

I dialed his number in hopes it would vibrate or light up.   To my tipsy surprise, I had already picked up his phone and put it in my bag. I must have saw it sitting down somewhere and thought ‘He’s going to forget this.’  

I called his name and motioned him over. I glanced at his phone as I simultaneously hung up but there was a slight lag on his phone screen lock. I noticed the name on the call did not say Ashley. In fact, no part of it looked like “Ashley.” No “Ashley W” No “Ash” None of that.  I reached back out for his phone, “Wait- what do you have me saved in on your phone?”

He laughed hard, held his screen to his chest and pretended to push me away. I didn’t laugh.

“Nah for real!” I yelled in my annoyed, this is not a game voice. He wouldn’t budge.

I dialed his number again.

He forwarded it.

I dialed again and reached for his phone. I let out a strong “Man, stop playing with me” and then snatched it right out of his hands. There across the screen read: “SMITH – 5.”

Yes, that was my ex’s last name and his jersey number.

Obviously my judgement was off; the support, dates, and jokes had nothing to do with me at all.  The past few weeks were all a ploy to rebuild his own ego. He didn’t want me, he wanted to have 1 up on the guy he thought 1 up’d him already.  He seemed to be a tad bitter over what happened in the past but I never imagined that was his actual driving force. That hint of vindictiveness I sensed was dead on.  Vindictive Asshole Anthony.

I remember looking at him with the most disgusted look on my face.  I handed him his phone, turned towards my friend and mouthed, “Let’s go.”  Totally unaware of what was going on my friend did what any good friend would do: she got to steppin!

“Ashley, what just happened?” she asked under her breath.

“Nothing. I’ll tell you later, but whatever you do- don’t stop. I’ll tell you everything as soon as we get back in the car.“

As we walked back to the car, he called after me. Coincidentally, by my real name.

Naturally, I never spoke to Anthony again but I did learn 1 very valuable lesson: Find out what the guy you’re dating has you saved as in his phone ASAP.