Come on man, you're blowing my cover. My tactic works like a charm.
Now I have to come up with another Greek pseudonym. I'm considering Balki Bartokomous or Jesse Katsopolis.
Ladies, form an orderly cue...
You're an idiot. I gave you my business card because it was a nice way of BLOWING YOU OFF you fucking moron - it's called proper etiquette you asshole, and I just didn't want to embarrass you in front of your creepy looking friends. You struck me as the kind of person that enjoys having sex with prostitutes and then killing them - and I didn't want you doing anything psychotic to me at the food court. If I really wanted to hear from you, you'd have gotten my personal contact information. How do you not get that?
Then you have the nerve to give me a deadline, and suggest I may have had issues as a child because I won't call someone as good as you back? Really??? Okay. Well I've got clues for sale if you'd like to buy one. You should probably take a fucking HINT. When someone doesn't want to talk to you, they won't return any of your calls. So yeah - lose my number. Fuck you, and every branch on your family tree. Oh yeah, drop dead too.