I was on the brink of a stunning canyon some months ago, sucking in my breath and dancing around prairie dogs who were intent on improving their intimacy with me and transmitting rabies when the phone rings and who should call but my landlord wanting to discuss kitchen sinks.
Of course, it could have been worse. It could have been a call for Brigitta.
Brigitta, as I have found out over the last several months, is either a big prankster or for some nefarious reasons the telephone company has given both of us the same number. Even so, no one who wants to call me complains that they get Brigitta. I, invariably, get calls for her. The mystery is still unsolved. One thing is clear though. Whoever this Brigitta is, she is vastly more popular than I am. And she is much sought after by men and women alike. One male caller though, upon finding that I was not Brigitta and that he is unlikely to reach Brigitta that evening since she had given him the wrong number decided to settle for the evening and converse with a lesser mortal - * here insert a comical face with bouncing eye-brows*. So, when I told him I am not Brigitta and gave him an earful on "I can't fathom why I keep getting calls for Brigitta"...he clucked his tongue sympathetically, presumably unbraiding his hair and unwinding as he began in his most ingratiating voice, "so, what's your name?". "Never mind, my man, I am not Brigitta". "Yes, yes. So, what's your name?"
*CLICK*
I am pretty sure one of these days I will pick up my cell-phone and find that I have struck pay dirt.
"THBRTHETEHBBTH". (Inter-galactic communication coming through)
"A whaaaaaat?"
A distinguished voice with a French accent comes over the phone.
"Mademoiselle Brigitta?"
"Oh, God, not again!"
"Ah, Enchanté, Mademoiselle. Enchanté. I am Jean-Luc Piccard, the Supreme-Chancellor of the Federation of Extra-terrestrials-Who-Have-French-Accents...calling from my palatial space-ship currently in geosynchronous orbit over a remote planet in the Andromeda Galaxy. And you are the first Earthling we have succeeded in contacting. May I tell you how delighted I am, Mademoiselle Brigitta, to 'ear your voice?"
(Vigorously slapping myself for reality-check while the extra-terrestrial Chancellor drones on.)
"Ah. Now that it is all settled, let us discuss the fun part. The Rendezvous. It has to be of utmost secrecy, you understand?"
(Shaking head acquiescently in hushed reverence)
"Our luxurious Flying Sorceress 2003 will land shortly after 24:00 hrs MST in the corn-fields where Saddam has stashed his WMDs in a barn, and you, Mademoiselle, will journey to Andromeda Galaxy and will rendezvous with my space-craft after you have completed the journey of 2.3 Million Light Years. Your stay here will be in a grand Moroccan-style Kasbah and of course, a sexy Cardassian Sheikh will be your companion during your stay...He will show you the many pleasures of..."
(Finding voice for the first time)
*gasp...a Sheikh!* Hello? Hello?
(Cell-Phone is Dead. Dropped Call.)
Close
Any way of knowing if this Brigitta has also been an involuntary recipient of calls meant for you?:-)
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