Ring ring
Phone woke me up this morning. After it rung off a couple of times, Nate kicked me out of bed to answer it.
"Hi."
"Hello Andrew, when's the date for your seventh tournament?"
"My ... hmm?"
"Your seventh tournament. Have a look downstairs, in the calendar by the kitchen. I think it might be on the fourteenth of March."
"'kay give me a sec. Hm, there's nothing here on the fourteenth."
"Maybe the week before or after?"
"Nope, nothing down here..."
"Is there something in the little diary in the living room? It was beside the TV last night. Might be in the kitchen by the blender."
"Um... nothing here. What's this for again?"
"The seventh tournament."
"The ... wait a sec, seventh ... tournament ... what?"
"Your rugby, Andrew!"
"...I don't play rugby."
"Okay. Bye. *click*"
What ... the ... fuck ...
"Hi."
"Hello Andrew, when's the date for your seventh tournament?"
"My ... hmm?"
"Your seventh tournament. Have a look downstairs, in the calendar by the kitchen. I think it might be on the fourteenth of March."
"'kay give me a sec. Hm, there's nothing here on the fourteenth."
"Maybe the week before or after?"
"Nope, nothing down here..."
"Is there something in the little diary in the living room? It was beside the TV last night. Might be in the kitchen by the blender."
"Um... nothing here. What's this for again?"
"The seventh tournament."
"The ... wait a sec, seventh ... tournament ... what?"
"Your rugby, Andrew!"
"...I don't play rugby."
"Okay. Bye. *click*"
What ... the ... fuck ...