One missed call

While traversing across L.A. from Silver Lake to Sawtelle, I missed a phone call from an old intern, David Moss. David's a smart kid with lots of energy--maybe too smart for his own good and a little too much energy as well. I was as stoked to hear from him as I was surprised. Shouldn't he be attending classes in Oberlin? But we could use an intern around the office now, so I returned his call and left a message telling him to come by the office if he had time. Not to demonstrate getting killed in a knife fight by Kiyoshi (as seen in the truncated photo below, sorry Blogger's still acting weird), but to do some transcribing.



About five minutes later, I received a voicemail. At first it sounded like dark-metal vocals rasping through cold, distorted static. Then the fuzz cleared (they stopped walking?) and I heard David's voice saying, "Yeah, I have a final on Friday," followed by a girl's voice. Their conversation ranged from upcoming tests to some sort of birthday-related drama to calling a meeting to handle a colleague's personality issues. Wow. Is his girlfriend or is he just macking on some co-ed? Wait, should I be listening to this? At that point, the message stopped.

This sort of thing happens somewhat often. Wendy likes to share how she got an accidental call from Eric or me when the two of us were driving up to San Francisco. She overheard an entire conversation about the awesomeness of Van Halen its unfortunate evolution into Sam Halen.

Do you know where your phone is? Is someone listening to you from your pocket or backpack right now? Will the listener be blogging about it?