Back when you were enjoying yourself in bars and clubs when the dating scene was far from digital and involved walking up to someone and asking their name, I bet you had a fake number. You know, the one that you’d give to the weirdos who you didn’t want to date, but didn’t have the heart to let down.
We all had one, and we were never there to see the fallout of our fake numbers. At the other end of your fake number was a real person, and they had to deal with all your rejects. Whoever this is isn’t planning on breaking it to this guy gently, she’s giving it to him straight: Kim thought he was a weirdo, and he’s not getting a date.