Why, when you're sleeping with a married man, you should never answer his phone.
I like to make up stories about people. I'm sure everyone does. It's like gossiping meets conspiracy theory, when wildelover and I put our heads together to come up with the most(least) likely reason for random behavior. Although, I'm sure my theory is correct in this case:
I'm making calls at work, to let people know that the book they ordered did indeed arrive, and that they needed to pick it up before such and such a date. Seemingly boring work, until I call Rochelle.
"Hello?"
"Hello, this is B&N, and I have a message for Rochelle."
At this point, most people would say, speaking, she's gone, wrong number, or any other phrasing of these typical answers. The woman on the phone hung up on me.
I stare blankly at the phone, then prompty turn to Pam.
"She hung up on me!"
"What?"
I'm now somewhat indignant. "She hung up on me! A woman answered, I said this was B&N with a message for Rochelle, and she hung up on me! Should I try calling her back, or just put her book away?"
Pam frowned at the book. "I'll call her."
She calls, gets no answer, and leaves a message on the machine. I'm thinking of finding the book and writing on the paper Left Message with Woman, so when we inveriably call in two weeks, we can say we left a message with a woman, and that we'll hold the book for four more days. That will teach the Rochelle impersonater that, when she's sleeping with someone else's husband, she shouldn't answer their house phone. Indescreet bahavior like that will end them up on the news as one of those unfortunate things, where jilted woman goes crazy and weggies husband half to death (unlikely that he will ever be able to reproduce) and posts nekkid pics. of the @&*# sleeping with her man on the internetz.
Then there is the strange case of our appartement neighbors. We saw them from time to time, two men of middle age, fairly burly looking. Their apt. was barely furnished, and we never saw them coming or going, only that sometimes while doing laundry their door was left open.
A few months ago little white notes appeared ont their doors, after the first of the month, to remind them that their rent was past due. These notes would stay up for a week or so, then vanish. Two months ago the little note reappeared, stayed there until it was a larger white note, saying that rent was way past due, that this back rent and the next months rent, and the late fee were expected on the first of the coming month. This stayed on the door (and floor, as the tape wore out) until it was replaced with a long folded note that seemed very important, possibly notice of eviction. (Yes, we peeked under all of the notes taped to the door, but this was folded, and someone started opening a door on our floor before either of us could unfold the paper and take a closer peek.)
Then, all notes vanished. For a couple of weeks, there was no sign of life around the that apt. Then, a week or so ago, we saw a bag of trash sitting infront of their door, containing boxes of cereal and other kitchen cupboard items.
I think I'll always wonder why the government sent two FBI (or CIA, or NSA, but not MIB, 'cause their laundry didn't contain any black suits) agents to live in out apt. building posing as two gay, burly truck drivers. You'd think they'd want a lower profile.
I doubt they were serial killers, as it's rare for two men to be working together on a murder spree, and the appartment didn't have that rotting-corpse smell. Although, for a time, our shower didn't drain and our dishwasher had back-water problems...but we called our apt. managers and they took care of the drainage issue quickly. I mean, they would have told us if there'd been a body stuffed in the plumbing pipes, right?
Or was the plumber one of THEM???
If you have an interesting theory about the case of the frantic hang up, or our disappearing neighbors, I'd love to hear them.
I'm making calls at work, to let people know that the book they ordered did indeed arrive, and that they needed to pick it up before such and such a date. Seemingly boring work, until I call Rochelle.
"Hello?"
"Hello, this is B&N, and I have a message for Rochelle."
At this point, most people would say, speaking, she's gone, wrong number, or any other phrasing of these typical answers. The woman on the phone hung up on me.
I stare blankly at the phone, then prompty turn to Pam.
"She hung up on me!"
"What?"
I'm now somewhat indignant. "She hung up on me! A woman answered, I said this was B&N with a message for Rochelle, and she hung up on me! Should I try calling her back, or just put her book away?"
Pam frowned at the book. "I'll call her."
She calls, gets no answer, and leaves a message on the machine. I'm thinking of finding the book and writing on the paper Left Message with Woman, so when we inveriably call in two weeks, we can say we left a message with a woman, and that we'll hold the book for four more days. That will teach the Rochelle impersonater that, when she's sleeping with someone else's husband, she shouldn't answer their house phone. Indescreet bahavior like that will end them up on the news as one of those unfortunate things, where jilted woman goes crazy and weggies husband half to death (unlikely that he will ever be able to reproduce) and posts nekkid pics. of the @&*# sleeping with her man on the internetz.
Then there is the strange case of our appartement neighbors. We saw them from time to time, two men of middle age, fairly burly looking. Their apt. was barely furnished, and we never saw them coming or going, only that sometimes while doing laundry their door was left open.
A few months ago little white notes appeared ont their doors, after the first of the month, to remind them that their rent was past due. These notes would stay up for a week or so, then vanish. Two months ago the little note reappeared, stayed there until it was a larger white note, saying that rent was way past due, that this back rent and the next months rent, and the late fee were expected on the first of the coming month. This stayed on the door (and floor, as the tape wore out) until it was replaced with a long folded note that seemed very important, possibly notice of eviction. (Yes, we peeked under all of the notes taped to the door, but this was folded, and someone started opening a door on our floor before either of us could unfold the paper and take a closer peek.)
Then, all notes vanished. For a couple of weeks, there was no sign of life around the that apt. Then, a week or so ago, we saw a bag of trash sitting infront of their door, containing boxes of cereal and other kitchen cupboard items.
I think I'll always wonder why the government sent two FBI (or CIA, or NSA, but not MIB, 'cause their laundry didn't contain any black suits) agents to live in out apt. building posing as two gay, burly truck drivers. You'd think they'd want a lower profile.
I doubt they were serial killers, as it's rare for two men to be working together on a murder spree, and the appartment didn't have that rotting-corpse smell. Although, for a time, our shower didn't drain and our dishwasher had back-water problems...but we called our apt. managers and they took care of the drainage issue quickly. I mean, they would have told us if there'd been a body stuffed in the plumbing pipes, right?
Or was the plumber one of THEM???
If you have an interesting theory about the case of the frantic hang up, or our disappearing neighbors, I'd love to hear them.