Just like any curious person, sometimes I have more questions in my head than answers. Unfortunately, not everything in this life is as simple as a reply or an explanation.
Simple question: How do I cook a nice bbq?
Simple answer: Call my dad, and enjoy truly Argentinean asado.
Simple question: should I stop trying to untangle the mysteries of the English language and go to school?
Simple answer: Yes woman! Get yourself a nice, shinny degree in English Literature right now!
Simple question: Should I kill (victimless of course, but you get the picture) my bbf Ana for playing ‘practical jokes’ (not really she actually did this as a ‘nice thing to do’ for me, and doesn’t deserve to die, but still) on me on the phone?
Not so simple answer:
Now I know by heart that our “real life friends” feel neglected and set aside due to our obsessive ostracism *checks twitter, blogger, facebook and works on her WIP*
It’s pointless to explain to your friends that “you are not an oyster you are a ninja!” (I really hope that the term oyster and ostracism is related in English the same way it’s in Spanish *checks google translator*) But to go all the way into invasion of privacy? That’s a whole different matter.
Let me explain further.
Me: *jogging back home after nice run on the bridge* (phone rings, Ana’s name and picture is displayed in the crapberry). “uff, not now! I can’t even breathe!”
Ana: *goes to voicemail*
Of course as a responsible friend, I listen to the voicemail right away, in case her house happens to be on fire. (Believe me, it could happen).
Voicemail: “Hello there!” (NOT ANA’S SWEET VOICE)
Me: *thinking actually, not on the phone with some dude I don’t even know!* Who are you and what did you do to my friend!
Voicemail: “This is Kobe (I’m sure that’s not his name, but a type of hamburger meat). “I’m a friend of Ana’s and she said you are cool and don’t have a boyfriend (you think?). It would be cool to meet sometime, maybe for a movie or some drinks, eh?
Me: *again thinking* WTF? #$%#!@#$*
Voicemail: “Well, give me a call, no pressure, *gives phone number* , let’s just, umm, you know, keep it real.”
Voicemail: “yeah! Call me anytime, she showed me your picture, you look ok.” (WHAT? This is what I get for living in South Beach.)
Me: *keeps jogging while plotting evil plan to kill Ana and destroy the universe* (Believe me wanted to!)
I sipped my crapberry back into my pocket and went home to talk to Nalah. Yes, after this kind of bizarre pseudo phone no-conversation, I needed a friendly talk, or slimy kiss, you know, from my dog.
I texted my friend, “I appreciate the effort, thanks but no thanks.” Poured a glass of red wine and went back to the magical world of my book, where characters keep it real and people actually meet first.
Tell me fellow writers, what’s the most bizarre voicemail you ever got?
Good writing everybody!