dayplanners.

Originally written September 24, 2002

The past two mornings, at precisely 6.53-ish in the morning, I have been awakened. Not by the pleasant beeping of my alarm clock, but by the ringing of a telephone. My telephone, as luck would have it. The first morning, I let it ring, in the bleak hopes that my roommates would pick it up or that the caller would leave a message. It stops ringing, I roll over and resume sleepage. A wee bit later, the phone rings again. The machine picks it up, no message is left.

So this evening, Rosalie has a "weird man" story to tell. A female employee of the coffee shop where my roommate works left her car unlocked. Someone broke in, and stole...her dayplanner. Inside this valuable piece of stolen property, there were the names and phone numbers of the people who work at this same coffeeshop, including my roommate. So this charming man of the morning has been calling females in this dayplanner, saying obscene things, probably while touching himself. Creepy indeed. I almost wish he'd call back tomorrow morning and try to match himself against my cruel wit, although I know I would be too freaked out to say anything to him. It would be fun, though.

Creepy Man: What are you wearing?
Sandra: A parka and some gogo boots.
Creepy Man: Do you like scary movies?
Sandra: Only ones with gerbils.
Creepy Man: I know where you live.
Sandra: Me too.

That would be fun. To out-weird the weird guy. He'll probably call tomorrow, and I'll creatively call him a pervert and hang up. It's hard to be witty at 6.53-ish.