They made me a receptionist at work. I cover the 3:45 to 6:00 shift. It's hectic. Very tide like. Constant, but definitely has sets of waves that kill me. I've grown in my respect of phone answers, they really do a lot.
Well, it was Friday night, a couple back, and I was just lounging, waiting for things to explode, and in walks this guy, Willy. I'd seen him once before. I helped him get to another floor to deliver flowers, so I figured he was back for the same kind of favor. Oh no, this time he was on a mission. He said, stuttering and staring at his feet, "Do you remember me?" "Yeah man, you deliver flowers." "Right, well, uh..., well, 305 C street." "Uh, what?" "305 C street." "I don't get it man." "I have a message from God." Pause. Longer pause. "You're serious? Well, come on, let's hear it." I was surprised that that was my first reaction to my first messenger. "You're supposed to go see a girl who lives at 305 C street." I was so stoked, I thought, "This is going on the blog for sure." I prodded Willy the Messenger a little bit, tried to get some stats on this "celestial" hook up. A height, maybe an opinion on her looks. He had nothing. I asked how he gotten the message, all of it a garbled mess. He left. Came back, started into why he needed to breed with a blond woman, and thankfully he left again. On the third heavenly visit, I felt pretty blasphemous but I had to say, "Will, bro, if you come back again, I'm going to have to call security."
He didn't come back. I tried to find 305 C street, nothing there.
4 years ago