Skip to main content

Adventures in Un-stored Phone Numbers, Episode 1

I have mentioned before that I have a really hard time taking care of small, delicate things. I have a propensity to drop them, and in my younger, more alcohol-infused days I had a propensity to throw them at anyone who irritated the hell out of me. Or anyone that was sitting where I wanted to sit. Or wearing a similar outfit to mine. But mostly, I just tend to epically drop things (epically = at least two stories of free fall, preferably onto hardwood or concrete)

Because I annihilate cell phones so often I have become accustomed to answering un-stored numbers, because *most* of the time it's a friend. Every now and then I get a gorgeous gem of dysfunctional dialogue that is worth sharing. I present to you Episode 1 of "Adventures in Un-stored Phone Numbers"

All sentences in italics represent my internal monologue and should be read as such. Even this one.

Episode 1, "Lisa unintentionally oversteps her bounds"

INT. ANGELA'S APT - EARLY AFTERNOON. I am sitting at my writing desk. I have been working on a piece about the passing of my dog and have not spoken to another human being in at least 12 hours. I am desperate for a break from my self-imposed isolation and just as I decide to pack up my computer and head to a bar to write, my cell phone rings.

Thank you, Universe! I see the unfamiliar number and click "answer" but do not have a chance to say hello before a woman with a very thick southern drawl says...

WOMAN:
You didn't do nothin' wrong.

ME:
Excuse me?

WOMAN:
I'd just rather you not get into the middle of this.

ME:
I'm sorry, who is this?

WOMAN:
Lisa, really, it's just gonna be best for all of us if you just stay out of it. (BEAT) Wait, did I dial the wrong number?

ME: I'm betting so, but please, go on. I wanna know what Lisa did.

WOMAN:
Well Hell's Belle's! *click*

ME:
Hello?

Who the fuck says "Hell's Belle's"? I thought that was only in terrible movies about the South. Oh, and probably Gone with the Wind. I should really watch that. I wonder if she'd answer if I called back...
Labels:

Comments

Anonymous said…
Hells Bells is also a kick-ass AC/DC song. Perhaps that's redundant.
May 16, 2012 at 11:41 PM
Angela J said…
Interesting! I assumed it was Belle's as in women, from hell. Not actual bells. I think that says more about me than anything else.
May 17, 2012 at 4:54 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Up in arms about 'Smoke'

I've been meaning to blog about my dining experience at Smoke for weeks now. I've been busying myself with things like Glee, V, and Fingerless Ghost . (more on those kids later) The old Cliff Cafe' next to Bar Belmont took a bit of a vacay and in step with Dallas tradition got a face lift, a chic monosyllabic name- Smoke , and a new man(ager). I first visited Smoke, located at 901 Fort Worth Ave., during its evening bar hours; I always say meeting new people is best done with a little social lubricant. I got a text from a friend saying it was "bumping" so my gf and I decided to kick off our chucks and put on some pumps for the occasion. By the time we arrived, all of 11:30 p.m., there were only a few recently cut bar staff from Bar Belmont, and one or two pasty black-clad hipsters smoking languidly on the patio. This was their first official night open, other than their buzz-making grand opening VIP party. I will give super kudos to our awesome bartender for the k...
2 comments
Read more

How to avoid hand cramps when you're in the 3rd grade

A t the beginning of the third grade my mother moved my brother and I to a new school. She did this often. With each move I attempted to blend in and fade away with the other children; but with a younger brother whose rebellious reputation was known in the tri-county area and a mentally ill mother this never seemed to happen. Each time I would gradually become known as the good student with the crazy mother and hellion brother. This meant I was never invited to sit with people at lunch, or play at recess. At our young stage of development we didn’t understand that mental illness was not something you caught; that my raving mother’s appearance outside of homeroom would not infect our teacher, or my classmates. I was blacklisted. Determined for this move to be different I decided to reinvent myself, to remove as much of my family as I possibly could. When I walked into my first class at this new elementary school and the teacher called out my name, “Elizabeth Johnson” I replied, “Act...
Post a Comment
Read more

Adventures in Un-Stored Numbers, Episode 3, "Text Message Rates Apply"

You can read the second episode here . And the first one here . All sentences in italics represent my internal monologue and should be read as such. Even this one. Also, if you see a word that appears in lime green  that means it's hyperlinked. 'Cause I'm fancy. Episode 3, "Text Message Rates Apply" EXT. JOGGING TRAIL - AFTERNOON. I am walking a slow cool down lap around the park at the end of my street. I have just finished a pretty miserable jog and am limping towards home to quickly shower and head in to work. My text message notification sounds. I read a text from an un-stored number. *some of these messages have been removed for privacy, editing, and laziness* TEXTER:  Hey are you going to the This American Life live event tomorrow? ME:  didn't know about it. sounds wonderful! Also, lost my phone so I don't have this number saved...can you tell me who you are? :) TEXTER: We can play 20 questions to see if you can figure it out :) That w...
Post a Comment
Read more