Phone Tag

There was a message on my answering machine when I arrived home from work last week. Tuesday I think. Actually I don’t remember. It was from Jacinda’s phone number in Oregon. I had not heard anything back for days after I first called so I wrote the effort off as a dead end. A bogus number found on the internet. You never can predict how things will turn out though. I listened to this peculiar message as a guy’s voice droned in monotone fashion about Jacinda. Very factual. To the point. The stranger informed me that Jacinda no longer lived at that residence. Apparently she had relocated some months ago back to California near Chico. Chico is located off Interstate 5 and surrounded by flat agricultural lands. It’s approximately a four hour drive from where I live near the coast. Not much out there to speak of. Chico is a college town filled to the brim with twenty-something year old drunks. Sierra Nevada Brewing Company is there, at least those knuckleheads are close to the source. This person also decided to give me Jacinda’s new number in California. As I sat thinking about it I felt adventurous. I made up my mind to call Jacinda, but first I wanted to call dude in Oregon.

Dialing his phone number again I waited as it rang multiple times. Nobody picked up. When his answering machine kicked in I said thanks for the info and mentioned that he didn’t have to fill me in on Jacinda’s current whereabouts. I realized that and wanted to make sure he knew that was pretty cool of him.

The following day when I came home that familiar red light on my Panasonic phone was blinking again indicating people left annoying messages. Most of the time the only messages I receive are from telemarketers or bill collectors. I don’t have much enthusiasm for taking the time to play back each and every item. Most of them end up skipped or deleted when I don’t recognize a caller’s voice in the first few seconds of playback. Just as I was about to dump a fresh message by pressing the erase button with a heavy finger of doom, I detected that Oregon stranger’s monotone way of speaking and I held off for a moment. It was the Jacinda guy again. He said he wanted to talk with me. It sounded genuinely important. So, I immediately called him back. As before all I got was his outgoing message. Nobody answered with a simple “Hello.” When I was prompted to speak by an electronic beep I told him what my work hours were and when I should be home on weekdays. I said I would be more than happy to speak with dude about whatever was on his mind. I hung up.

Whoever he was, he failed to call me back.

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~ by factorypeasant on February 4, 2008.

6 Responses to “Phone Tag”

  1. the fuse is lit…weeeeeee!!!!

  2. And after Chico she moved to Tijuana where she got married to a minister and now has 23 kids. But, despite all the procreation, she’s still hot and you nail her once behind the shed before saying goodbye forever. Sniff, another signature happy ending by Don Peasanto Del Factoryo.

  3. that made me laff. you have no idea what happened months later. but you will though. you will find out. it’s going to make for some interesting reading no doubt.

  4. you smell like poop…the both of ya.

  5. it’s uh startin to smell like hobo bait in here…worries bout the sanitation.

    DT

  6. Wow this looks like a good place to take a big ol hairy dump! nice and deserted…no one around…shoot some dope…smoke some rock…have ghey ses wif me sef…and crap on my shoooz…only i have no shehwz…can i berrrow yers?

    SomeDamndBum!

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