Transcript of phone conversation last night:
Me: Greetings, Ms. Wonderifical!
The Missus: Hi! How was your plane ride?
Me: Not too bad. I think I might have caught something. The kid on the row in front of me had a cold and kept coughing and sneezing without covering his mouth. And all day today my throat has been kind of sore.
TM: You’re fading. I didn’t get anything after, “Not too bad.”
Me: (raising voice) I WAS SAYING THAT MY THROAT IS A LITTLE SORE. IT HURTS TO TALK.
TM: Yeah. Didn’t get that.
Me: (practically screaming) I AM NOT FEELING TOO HOT. IT HURTS TO TALK.
TM: What was that? You’re all crackling and staticy.
Me: (actually screaming) I HATE THIS PHONE. THIS IS THE THIRD CALL TODAY WHERE I’VE HAD TO SCREAM TO BE HEARD. THE PEOPLE IN THE HOTEL KEEP BANGING AGAINST MY WALL. I BET THEY THINK I’M SOME SORT OF PSYCHO LIKE JOHN GOODMAN IN THAT 'BARTON FINK' MOVIE. I JUST GOES INTO AN EMPTY HOTEL ROOM AND SCREAM AND SCREAM FOR HOURS ON END. THE NEXT KNOCK ON MY DOOR WILL NO DOUBT BE THE POLICE.
TM: I’m sorry, honey, but you’re not coming through at all. Do you want me to call back?
Me: WOULDN’T IT BE TRAGIC IF I HAD A HEART CONDITION NO ONE KNEW ABOUT AND ALL THE UNDUE STRESS FROM TALKING ON A CELL PHONE LET TO-
*sharp intake of air*
*silence*
*thudding noise*
TM: Hello? Hello? I think the call dropped.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment