If your phone doesn't ring...It's me...

Last weekend, I returned home from my club and found an urgent email from someone or other listing phone numbers, declaring emergency and demanding I call. Now, as you all know, I am not one for modern technology, a modern Luddite would best describe me, but I do have a telephone, placed in the foyer in case a call to the local constabulary is required.

Intrigued by this e-missive, I dialed and immediately was embroiled in an argument about whether or not it was actually me on the phone or someone else. Of course with the raucous laughter and breaking glass sounds in the background, I realized at once that I had reached either Mrs. P or the Card's Wife...I was surprised that they didn't ask if I had Prince Albert in a can, etc.

If, by chance, you have phoned someone in the midst of a drunken pub crawl you realize that the conversation is not on a level that one would normally desire, and that the volume might be described as somewhat shrill...Although I did get a few words with The Card and Mr. P, there was a cry about 'minutes' in the background and I found myself discussing Saki with a dial tone.

Well, it was nice to hear from them anyway...