Do the dirty now...
So my realtor came over last night to talk about stuff. She left her cell phone. She called this morning and left a message that she was going to pick it up, but she has not appeared. The number she left me as her home number rings off the hook, no answering machine.
Her little phone first does the vibrator buzz, then bursts into a loud and cheerful snippet from the above-mentioned song. It's probably a missed lyric, but I can't tell what they're saying! I think somewhere later in the song the The Mashed Potato and The Twist are mentioned. Y'all know which song I mean. It was probably in Dirty Dancing.
It just went off twice in a row without a breath between. Someone is really trying to get her: now this is serious, don't just screen your calls, pick up pick up pick up, it's me. Too bad the phone is here!
I actually do feel bad, because that's her livelihood, but she knows where I live, and I have no way to get in touch with her. I hope she picks it up tonight.
Lately my life has included a series of exchanging things: picking things up in odd places like unincorporated county secret hippy professor villages and of trying to deliver things to people in oddly timed appointments. (Thanks, Freecycle!) This week, thanks to rlpowell's help, I scored 20 Science magazine back issues. Sweeeet. Anyone need some ghost poo? A broken shredder? A more broken, obsolete scanner? No??? Why the hell not?!
Her little phone first does the vibrator buzz, then bursts into a loud and cheerful snippet from the above-mentioned song. It's probably a missed lyric, but I can't tell what they're saying! I think somewhere later in the song the The Mashed Potato and The Twist are mentioned. Y'all know which song I mean. It was probably in Dirty Dancing.
It just went off twice in a row without a breath between. Someone is really trying to get her: now this is serious, don't just screen your calls, pick up pick up pick up, it's me. Too bad the phone is here!
I actually do feel bad, because that's her livelihood, but she knows where I live, and I have no way to get in touch with her. I hope she picks it up tonight.
Lately my life has included a series of exchanging things: picking things up in odd places like unincorporated county secret hippy professor villages and of trying to deliver things to people in oddly timed appointments. (Thanks, Freecycle!) This week, thanks to rlpowell's help, I scored 20 Science magazine back issues. Sweeeet. Anyone need some ghost poo? A broken shredder? A more broken, obsolete scanner? No??? Why the hell not?!