The match of someone's

part two

So, part two of this wild-ass story? Babe, hold on to your edges.

So there I was, minding my own business, when BAM—another random number hit me up. And what did this one have? Yup, you guessed it. Another damn football profile picture. I’m starting to think there’s some underground cult of football dudes who’ve got nothing better to do than text random girls at 3 AM. Like, seriously, do y’all have no hobbies?

But you know what? I’m not above entertainment. So, being the curious (but not desperate, okay?) girl that I am, I replied.

"Sup?"

Keeping it cool. Casual. Definitely not showing I was intrigued...even though I low-key was. Now, at this point, my Spidey-senses were tingling. Like, why were these random guys texting me out of the blue? With the same basic-ass football pfp? Who raised y'all?

Anyway, before I get too deep into these sketchy messages, I did what any reasonable person would do—I went straight to my bestie. Enter stage left: Kay, my ride-or-die, my therapist, and the girl who never fails to remind me of how tragically single I am. “You’re lonely, bestie, admit it,” she says like once a week. She’s not wrong, but still, rude.

So, I called her up, like, "Hey, gurl, real talk, did you give out my number to some dudes?" I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time. This girl’s always tryna play matchmaker, thinking I need a man to fill the void or whatever. Spoiler alert: I don't, but you didn’t hear that from me.

Kay was all, "Nooo, what the fuck? I wouldn’t do that!"

But I wasn’t convinced. I gave her my side-eye through the phone even though she couldn’t see me. I mean, who else would be handing out my number? She’s got this bad habit of playing Cupid without asking permission, but this time she sounded… legit. Whatever. I let it slide.

While she was babbling about some new hair routine (because she’s always either doing her hair or talking about doing her hair), I casually went back to texting this second mystery dude. He was just making small talk at first—totally normal stuff, nothing creepy, no red flags… yet. But then he hit me with the “What school do you go to?” question.

Okay, no biggie, right? I told him, thinking that was that. But THEN—get this—the first guy, the OG football dude, texted me asking the exact same question. Same wording and everything. And I was like, "Hold up… this is getting sketchy."

Weird vibes, bestie. Like, what are the odds two random dudes, both with football pfps, hit me up and start asking the exact same questions? So, naturally, my overthinking ass went into full-on FBI mode. Is this a setup? Are these dudes, like, in on something? Did Kay secretly sell my number to some weird-ass prank club or football cult?

I was texting both of them at this point, trying to play it cool but also kinda freaking out. So, I decided to be upfront with these clowns.

"Yo, I know this is a setup," I texted both of them, at the same time. Because, babe, I wasn’t about to get played. I mean, did they think I wouldn’t notice? Did they think I’m stupid? Please. This queen wasn’t born yesterday.

Now, you’d think that’d be enough chaos for one night, right? WRONG.

Just as I was sitting there, waiting for these two idiots to come clean, my phone buzzed again. And guess what?

A THIRD RANDOM NUMBER popped up on my screen.

I literally couldn’t make this shit up if I tried. I nearly dropped my phone. Another “hey” from another random guy. And—surprise, surprise—this one also had a football profile picture. Like, what the actual hell is happening? Is this some kind of weird social experiment? Am I being punked? Is Ashton Kutcher about to jump out of my closet or something?

At this point, I was legit ready to throw hands. How many football dudes does it take to text a girl before she snaps? I texted Kay back, all caps this time, like:

“BESTIE. ANOTHER ONE. WTF IS GOING ON?!”

She was still on the phone, but now she was howling with laughter. Like, full-on cackling while twisting her hair into God-knows-what kind of style.

“I swear I didn’t do it!” she gasped between laughs, clearly living for the drama that was currently unfolding in my life. And honestly, I couldn’t even blame her. I mean, this was some next-level ridiculousness.

So, now here I was, texting THREE dudes at once, all of them asking the same creepy questions. And I was officially in detective mode, trying to figure out if this was some kind of group prank, a glitch in the matrix, or a full-on conspiracy against my sanity.