Random Bama--The Communication Edition

Ms. Angie's frantic call last Wednesday was to tell me that she walked in and could smell the waft of an electrical smell flooding through the home and the heat was out again.

And what should she do?

"Call 911" I said with as much patience as I could muster under the given circumstances.

"You know what?" she drawled. "Let me call my next door neighbor and ring you back." And with that she hung up to talk to her next door neighbor the (I hope) fire fighter.

Because I was at the end of my rope, Marty Sunshine immediately called her back to find out that it wasn't an ozone smell, but a natural gas smell. The neighbor figured it was the pilot light of her brand-new furnace went out.

I sure hope that was the case. But, I haven't called her yet to find out.

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Ms. Shirley came through.

I got a brisk and to the point e-mail last week. "Mrs. Landlord, I deposited my rent in your bank account. Sincerely, Ms. Shirley"

Now, Ms. Shirley, wasn't that simple? Imagine how much nicer life could have been for you if you had just done this on time for the past several months.

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I spoke with Haroldine on Thursday. About half way through our conversation she said to me with an exasperated tone: "I really can't understand you with your thick accent."

Funny, I was thinking the exact same thing.

Haroldine and I finally got our conversation out of the way, via text.