Wednesday, September 04, 2013

This May - Or May Not - Have Happened.

Here I am, walking through another endless antique mall as the folks look for yet another obscure piece of glassware.  At least it's one of the more interesting malls.  It's a little junky, which means I might have a shot at finding something really quirky and neat. 

I see an old, black rotary phone sitting all alone on a table a few booths ahead.  I have to admit to a bit of nostalgia when I see it.  We had a rotary wall phone when I was a kid - complete with the party line we could hardly ever use because of old Ms. Carr constantly gossiping to her friends.  I see this phone doesn't have the phone line that connected it to the wall jack.   

I walk closer to the phone, curious about the price.  Just as I reach for the tag, imagine my surprise when the thing rings.  Out of curosity, I can't resist answering it. 

"Hello?"

I hear a deep, ominious voice on the other end.  "You better watch your back." it says.  I'm so startled, I don't know what to say.
"I know what you've done.  Did you think you could commit such a blaphesmy and not be noticed?  You can't hide from me, much less the entire celestial army.  I will make damn sure you will burn in the deepest depths of hell for this travesty, Leonard Trapaski."


Are you kidding me?  I get a phantom phone call and it's a wrong number?  I finally find my voice and say, "Who?!"

There is a startled silence on the other end of the phone.  "Who is this?"

"Definitely not Leonard Trapaski," I say in my unmistakable for anything but feminine voice.

More startled silence. 

"Oh....um....uh...my bad.  I...um...have a...uh...haveaniceday."

I hear a click and then the silence of a dead phone.  I find myself looking at the handset, down the phone and back to the handset before I put it back into the cradle.  Maybe I'm not as interested in the old phone as I thought.  Of course, now I'm wondering why exactly Leonard Trapasky has an entire celestial army of angels after him. 

Perhaps I'll just let that one pass.  Who knows who - or what - will be calling next.