My Super Power

I'm not going to lie. I block people. I do it daily. Calls on my cell from creepy money-seekers, fake IRS threateners, schnorrers of every variety who want something from the SJG? @#$% them and the cell tower they rode in on. I don't answer the calls. I block them. It makes me so happy. It gives me a sense of control.

If only I'd possessed this superhero power long before blocking became a thing, I'd be so much more evolved, with my "don't mess with me" general demeanor.

The good news is I block because I can and it's so liberating I could scream. The bad news is sometimes this power of mine has a mind of its own. The other day, my dear friend Mrs. Gorgeous, aka Yael, let me know via What'sApp that she couldn't text me the "normal" way. Her "happy new year" texts had gone unanswered. To make up for my unintentional social boo boo, we met for dinner, hubbies in tow, and the two of us spent a good portion of last night's dining experience untangling the mess.
"Text me," I said.
"No, you text me," she said.
"I just texted you."
"Hellody?"
"Yes."
"Not hello?"
"Do you have a problem with that?"
"A little."
"That's how I say hello. Okay, now you text me."
At this point, the husbands had lost interest and were talking about important things, like watches.
"I texted. Did you get it?" Yael asked.
"No."
"Carol! Did you block me?"
"Block you? I'd never do that."
"Check."
"How do I check? Oh wait... I'll just go into my contacts and -- "
"What?"
"Oh, no."
"What did you do?"
"Oh, dear God in heaven."
"Go ahead, confess."
"I freaking... blocked you."
"I knew it!"
"It was an accident, I swear."
"So, are you going to unblock me?"
"I just did."
"Did you get my text?"
"Hi?"
"Uh huh."
"You couldn't do better than 'hi?' "
"Do you want me to block you?"
"No."
"So we're good now?"
"We're good."
"Don't ever do that again."
"If I do, it'll be by accident."
"I can live with that."