Mistaken Identity

Boy: “Hey, Lori, what’s up?” came the lazy, muted voice over my cell phone.
Me: “Who is this?”
B: “Man, I knew you’d be like that.”
M: “Who are you trying to reach?”
B: “Lori. That’s messed up. I knew you’d do this.”
M: “What’s your name?”
B: “James. We hooked up at the club.”
M: “What club?”
B: unintelligible name
M: “James, I can’t understand you. Speak up. What do I look like?”
B: “You’re a short Filipino girl.”
M: “And how old am I?”
B: “23.”
M: “James, I’m a 40 year old white woman.”
B: “WHAT?”
M: “My purse was stolen the other night. I think you hooked up with the girl that stole my purse.”
B: “That’s seriously messed up.”
M: “I know. Sorry about that. But I don’t think I’m the one you want to talk to. I just replaced my phone today, so the phone she stole won’t work anymore.”
B: “That’s seriously wrong. I can help you find her.”
M: “How? You think her name is Lori and you think this is her phone number.”
B: “No, man, I was at your place this morning. We hooked up.”
M: “No, you were at her place. I was by myself this morning. Where does she live?”
B: “Downtown. I don’t know the street names, but I could find it again. I think.”
M: “James, any help you could give me to identify her, I would greatly appreciate. Thanks.”
B: “Later.”

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