Scene: A small office containing two oversized desks, two computers, crammed bookshelves, a file cabinet, a laser printer, a large scanner, computer shipping boxes, and various papers scattered everywhere. At one of the desks sits our heroine, a short-haired, somewhat frazzled looking woman in her mid-20s. She is staring at her computer monitor, muttering something about javascript in Macintosh browsers. There is a knock at the door. Woman: Come in! Enter deliveryman, a gentleman in his mid-30s wearing rumpled street clothes and intently studying the piece of paper in his hand. Deliveryman: Hi. I have your phonebooks here. Deliveryman goes into hallway; returns with wheeled cart stacked high with phone books. Pushes stack of phone books onto office floor. Deliveryman: You have a good day, ma'am. Delivery man exits. What the hell am I supposed to do with 32 phone books????????
Woman: Phonebooks?
Deliveryman: Yeah. New white pages and yellow pages. Is this the basement of Clark Hall?
Woman: Yes.
Deliveryman: OK, good. Says here I'm supposed to drop off 16 phone books to your office.
Woman: Um, I don't need 16 phone books. Two sets will be fine, for me and my officemate.
Deliveryman: But it says I'm sposed to drop off 16 sets. Are you Amy Riddle?
Woman: No. And I didn't ask for 16 phone books.
Deliveryman: Well, I'm sorry, ma'am, but it says I gotta drop 'em off here, so I gotta drop 'em off here.
Woman: But I don't have any place to put a total of 32 phone books. Look at this place.
Deliveryman: Sorry, ma'am. Nothing I can do.
posted by Kate at 3:21 PM link/comments
