Friday, February 18, 2005
America's Most Wanted
One day, during a pajama laden day in the midst of my summertime unemployment, I called my mother in the break between daytime dramas. I don't really recall what we were discussing, probably some inane banter about the fruitlessness of my life, but I began to notice small clicks interrupting her as she spoke. When I questioned her about it, she said she hadn't noticed and mentioned it must be on my end. I suggested someone had tapped our line and was listening in on our conversation. Unlikely, she said, but to prove my point I said ratherly loudly that I was glad I had decided against my plan to plant bombs in the neighborhood sewers. We laughed and laughed until a third voice popped in on the line. "Hello?" he said. "This is the phone man and we're just checking the lines." Startled, almost speechless, I screamed into the phone, "I was only kidding! There are no bombs! I was just kidding!" He never answered me, never assured me that he understood my ridiculous attempt at humor. Instead, there was only silence and a growing pit of fear that somewhere on a watchlist in the offices of the FBI sits my name in giant bold letters.
#
#
Comments:
Post a Comment
