The other day I got a call from someone who I hadn’t heard from in a long, long time. Someone who I was kind of hoping I would never hear from again.
He had apparently managed to get himself in some sort of trouble stemming from an incident that sounded like a cross between a bar fight and an episode of road rage. And not in a good way.
Because let's just say that it was a long and complicated story and when he said he hit someone I wasn’t listening closely enough to figure out if he meant with his fist or his car.
When he was done, I told him that I couldn’t help him and gave him the names of a couple of people who might be able to. Then I tried to hang up, but he kept talking.
"So," he said, "I see you’ve moved to a new place."
"What do you mean?" I said. And what I’m thinking is: I haven’t moved since 1995.
"Well," he said, "I was driving by your house the other day -–"
"Mmmmm," I said. And what I’m thinking is: I live on a dead end street.
" -- and I saw a baby carriage on the front porch."
"Oh, yes," I said, "That must have been the day my friend, um, Ellen stopped by with her 18-month-old. She visits, like, um, all the time. Well, nicetalkingtoyougottagobye."
And what I’m thinking is: Here’s to long-lost friends. May they stay that way. Permanently.
Who’s been calling you lately?