“Girl, Have you heard from Wednesday?” “Wednesday?” She questioned. *Ugh. Don’t you hate it when your friend tries to play dumb?*
“Girl! Wednesday Bae!” I yelled at her forcefully. “OHHHHHHHH girl him.” Ding. Ding. Ding. She knew exactly who I was talking about.
We had renamed my friend’s new option Wednesday. Why? They met on a Wednesday night at a weekly bowling event and then hung out again that next week, coincidentally on a Wednesday. She finally told me about him 3 weeks into dating him, also coincidentally on a Wednesday. Later that week, he texted her and asked “Hey- Are you free on Wednesday?” It was in that moment that the light went off and she muttered “That mother fucker only asks me to hang out on Wednesdays Ash!”
We burst into laughter, we recalled the past month, and well, thus his new name, “Wednesday Bae.” Quite frankly, it’s his only name.
After we talked about Wednesday Bae for a bit, we moved on to Skater Boy. That’s the hot, young option that works at that skate shop. According to my friend, he’s tall, dark, handsome, and packing! But I don’t know his real name either.
When it comes to my own dating life, I don’t share a guy’s government name until I’m sure it’s worth remembering. Until then, he’s just an adjective, a note, a singular detail that easily identifies him from the rest of the pack.
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