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[notsolomon]

This is William Twining. I shall reply to your message at my earliest convenience. Thank you. ***BEEP***

Comments

[babermetrics]

Yeah, I know. I mean, if you did, I'd start to wonder, y'know? Not that I wouldn't like someone followin' me around complimenting me all the time, but I'll leave that to my groupies, not my friends!

[He thinks for a moment about reaching over to fix William's hair where he messed it up, but there's something awkward-feeling about that, especially in public and across a table. He shrugs and pulls his compact out of his pocket, though, and slides it across the table for him. There. Adjust thyself.]

[notsolomon]

Do you even have groupies? I thought that was some celebrity thing in the future.

[He drops the jab rather quickly though, because he's not too inclined to be mean today. And he never quite understood what the point of groupies was or the word? Wouldn't that just be followers? Or admirers? The future was strange.]

[babermetrics]

Hey, you got no idea how famous I was for baseball crap! I had plenty of groupies! But not as many as I would've gotten as a rock star . . . so I'm workin' on that.

[notsolomon]

You? For baseball?

[But that is a petty reason for changing careers Leon. Really petty.]

Well I suppose I hope you get all the groupies you are entitled to then.

[Or something. He doesn't know.]