| beanery. page 2. 8/4/02 (cont.) "Your pleasure? My pleasure. Who's pleasure is it again? If you're a machine, and I think you are, then you probably aren't getting any pleasure. You should put your pleasure somewhere else." And then he hung up. This had us rolling in the isles for quite awhile before we moved forward to perhaps the best one of the whole morning. Beka called a complete stranger in Colorado collect, pretending to be the woman's daughter, and had a complete conversation with the woman. It went something like this: In the place of her name, she told the mechanical operator, "your baby girl." The woman accepted charges. "Christine!" she cried. "Yeah, hi!" Beka answered. "How are you?" "Oh, alright. How's everything?" "Good, good." "Where are you calling from, honey?" "We're a few hours from Denver. We're on our way." "Christine! You're in law school in Washington D.C.!" "I know. I'm on my way back. I wanted to surprise everyone!" This went on for quite awhile, the woman declaring every once in a while that "this just doesn't sound like you," Beka replying, "It's probably just the phone." Finally, the woman, confused, asked what her mother's name was, and when Beka couldn't think of anything better than "Grandma," she hung up, doubled up with laughter. Somewhere in Colorado, there is a very confused lady wondering where her daughter is. We spent another fifteen minutes trying to find another gullible stranger, Peevil trying to steal my purse repeatedly, drawing fake gang symbols of his own design on his arms, and whining that he wanted to talk to Barb again. Finally, we all crawled home at about nine AM. Just another weekday here in the middle of nowhere. -bean All Hail. |