In recent days I noticed that I was thinking a fair amount about a friend I hadn’t spoken to for some time.
I took this a sign to call him.
I called, a female answered, I promptly hung up.
Took this as another sign, this time, not to believe the first.
The following day while walking the dog, I noticed a kid had written his name in the cement footpath. Every couple of meters for the length of the path all I saw was his name. Freak coincidence that his name is popping up all over the place? I think not!
If it wasn’t a sign to try call him again, then nothing ever would be.
So I called, again.
A girl answered. She was much too chirpy and knew my name. I asked her name, and she confirmed it was the same girl he told me about last we spoke. All other types of insane thoughts were running through my head as I tried to decipher what she was saying through her giggle infused chirpiness. Damnit, all I wanted to do was talk to my friend, could she gather herself for one minute freaking minute?
I finally asked if I could speak to him.
Then the giggles broke out into a laughing fit complete with snorts. My patience wore thin. As the sobs of joy at my obvious discomfort wavered, I enquired;
Isn’t this his number?
More laughter followed by incoherant words.
Turns out it was her number. Either way, I didn’t find it that funny.
Until she calmed down and explained that I had called the wrong number. I had infact, called one of my female friends. What’s worse and all the more bizzare is that my friend and the girl I thought I was talking to, have the same name. I cut it short and got the right number. Third times a charm right?
I called him, for the final attempt at following the signs.
Phone was switched off.
Suppose they weren’t those kind of signs after all.
Some things a gals got to just accept, signs or no signs.
