Wednesday, 19 January 2011

Five telephones, one call per week

I was about to head to art school for the day. No pressing time limit on arrival. The phone rang. I ran for the nearest phone skidding into the fireplace and picking up. We lived in an obscenely large apartment with five telephones in an obscure underrated part of town....Rogers Park. It was two blocks from the lake and forty five minutes to downtown. Ilya referred to our flat as, "your apartment the length of a city block with five telephones." It was big even by Chicago standards.

"You have a collect call from Stateville Prison. Would you like to accept the call? "
I wonder who I know who is in prison. Prison? Hmm. I better....
"Maam. Will you accept the call?"
"Could you tell me please who is calling?"
"I'm afraid that information's unavailable maam. Will you accept the call?" She had a nasal tone like a squoodged piggy. She sounded like she was on her lunch break eating Spam out of the tin with her left hand and the phone in her right.
"Of course."
"Is that a yes?"
Does of course mean yes? What an operator.

He had found my number in the paper.
He had one phone call per week.

(November 2012)
Found him via google. Think I'll write to him and see how he is. Hi Peter...wishing you all the best.

1 comment:

DOGBOY said...

I wish I could read them all... I'll be back.. fascinating, but must get to work.