Wrong Number, Right Panther

Sometimes the wrong number is the exact one you need.

I’m far too old to be playing truth or dare anywhere, much less at a bonfire. Yet here I am, attempting to protect my little brother from himself, only to be the one in a hot-ass mess. I accept one little dare: send a pic of your beast to your ex. I try to get out of it, using the excuse that I deleted their sorry self from my phone. When a partygoer tells me they have the number, my plea is denied. And that’s how I end up sending a...

Sometimes the wrong number is the exact one you need.

I’m far too old to be playing truth or dare anywhere, much less at a bonfire. Yet here I am, attempting to protect my little brother from himself, only to be the one in a hot-ass mess. I accept one little dare: send a pic of your beast to your ex. I try to get out of it, using the excuse that I deleted their sorry self from my phone. When a partygoer tells me they have the number, my plea is denied. And that’s how I end up sending a picture of my panther to my piece-of-garbage ex after drinking far too many beers. Fingers crossed, he blocked me long ago. The next morning I discovered I didn’t send it to my ex. Nope, it went to a total stranger, and the caption, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours” has the person on the other end thinking I’m keeping wild animals illegally. I dug myself into this mess, and now I need to dig myself out of it, even if that means meeting the stranger before they report me to the Game Commission.

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