One of my favorite shoot-downs came during the summer I signed up to play in a city adult recreation soccer league. I had heard the soccer league was a lot of fun, but it had been many years since I've ever played soccer back in school, so I also signed up to take the 3 hour refresher course they offered right before the season started. Right after I arrived, a girl parked next to me. She was obviously there for soccer, the cleats and shin guards gave it away, so I started talking to her.

Her name was Katie, she seemed friendly and was very pretty. She had amazing legs. I took every attempt to talk to her over the next few hours. When the clinic finished, I walked with her to her car. Then, my friend Andy walked over and joined the conversation. This was completely unacceptable. How could Andy just walk over and interrupt when I was clearly making my big move? After a few glares he finally wandered off and I was able to ask her if she wanted to get together some time. She said sure, so I asked for her phone number and she tore a corner of paper from a bill she had in her car and gave it to me.

That was definitely a number I didn't want to lose. Two days later I gave her a call. A very nice older lady answered when I called, but she had never heard of Katie. The phone number turned out to just like Pamela Anderson's breasts. That's right, completely fake. The really odd thing was that the girl and I were playing in the same soccer league, how do you give a fake number to someone you are going to bump into almost every week? Since we were at the same soccer fields and I recognized her car, I returned her fake number to her. After one of my games, I took the scrap of paper she gave me and I slipped it inside her car window.

Contrary to what my friends say, I don't think that makes me a stalker. I just figured that since the number was defective, perhaps I could return it for a refund. I still have a copy of the original 'return ticket.' Anyway, I thought the return slip was pretty darn funny, not sure what she thought about it.

Chill Factor = 4 out of 5 ice cubes

A fake phone number, especially to someone you're going to see almost every week, is pretty harsh.

To read more of Joshua's humorous tales of dating misadventures, they're updated frequently on the Funny Stories Blog