“Glad to hear your voice,” said the person on the phone.
“Ah … thanks?” This was starting out weirdly for mysteriously-begun phone conversations.
“Compared to the people who’ve got less suspicious motives than yours.”
“I’ve got suspicious motives?”
“Well,” the voice said, “you might. It’s possible. They happen.”
I said, “There are people with less suspicious motives?”
“Uh … sure. I think. What are you talking about?”
“I’m confused about that too.”
And the voice said, “Why is it important you figure this out now? What are you trying to get to?”
That’s a pretty good question, so I left it at that.
“Are you going to do something about that pond of yours?” said the angry voice on the phone.
“What about that pond?” was the best I could answer.
“It’s in my yard making a mess of things!”
I looked out the back window, and the pond was right where it’s been all winter, tucked under its blanket of ice and that strange snow that stays on top of little ponds all winter whether it snows or not. “Sorry, but I’m looking at it right now and it’s here in my yard.”
The voice harrumphed at me, but I stuck to my story, and then hung up.
Obviously this calls for action, so I’m replacing our phone with a model that’s in a softer and less anger-rousing color.
I answered the phone with apprehension, since I’m really not a natural phone-answerer. I mostly know what to do about picking it up and saying hello, but after that I feel uncomfortably lost. But I gave it a try.
“What do you think you’re doing?” demanded the voice on the other end.
I’m usually better at questions about what I’m thinking when I don’t stop to think about what I’m thinking. “I think I’m talking to you on the phone.”
“That’s what I’m doing!” was the angry yet logically complete reply.
I said I couldn’t argue it.
“Stop imitating me or I’ll sic a copyright lawyer on you!” and he hung up.
Now you see why I have to be apprehended onto the phone.