Awkward phone call of the day.

Here's a new segment for your reading pleasure. Awkward phone call of the day!

This morning I answered the phone and the guy on the other end didn't respond. And then he did. Here's our conversation:

Me: Budget and Asset Management, this is Emily.
Man:
Me:
Man: Hello?!
Me: Hello?
Man: alkjdoifulkwerjo asodiul lkjsdfo lksjdfoiun lisdfh
Me: ...hello?
Man: lskdjfoiue lkdsjfo oiukj skjdi a ksdjfo isdk.
Me: ...um... I really can't understand you.
Man: lkjsdofi lkj oidu flkj alkjeoiu.
Me: (looks at K) I can't understand him!
Man: Hello? Hello? Hello?
Me: Um, I'm going to transfer you to K.
Man: slkdji jkuiwlk elksjdoiu lkjdfiu oieu lkjsiu.
Me: (transfers to K)
Man: (hangs up.)

Wow. Who knows what that was about. I sure don't. I really hope he doesn't call back this afternoon!

And so the saga begins...

Well everyone, I have an awkward situation that is about to unfold. I don't know why, but I just have this feeling that I am bringing it upon myself. I intend to share all of the gory details with you once it is in full motion, but I'm not sure when exactly that will be. I have to work up some courage first. I mean, it takes a lot of gumption to bring on an awkward situation like this. So, that's really all I can tell you right now. Sorry for the disappointment, but you at least know its coming. Maybe as early as this afternoon. I'll keep you posted.

When we grow up...

A few weeks ago, one of my roommates and I decided to go to a larger town to the south and enjoy some retail therapy. We went to the mall and as we walked by a jewelry store, a poster of a sparkly engagement ring caught our eyes. We're girls, what can we say? So, Roommate took a picture of it with her phone to send to her beau, and whilst this was taking place, two random guys walk by and say...

Random Boy: Oh! Is that the ring you want when you get older? (in a VERY condescending voice)
Roommate: ...Umm... yeah?
RB: Oh, well good choice. ( Notices we're not 12 and scurries off into another store)

Who does stuff like that? Seriously. However, it has provided us with many hours of laughter. Many.

Mumbler!

So tonight I went to enjoy the delicious icy-ness of a snowcone with one of the most amazing people in the whole world. It was awkward.

AWKWARD STORY #1:

To begin, K and I walked up to the window and waited in line. Once it was finally our turn to order, I asked for a Pina Colada flavored snowcone. Then he asked me something that sounded like "Do you wannn sldkfoiausddnd or ouarekad?" HUH? "DO YOU WANT A CONE OR FLAT TOP?" OH!!! I get it. :D Then it was K's turn. She ordered a Cream Soda one.

When Mumbler finally got around to making our snowcones (there was a cute girl inside the snowcone place that he found fascinating), we couldn't figure out which one was which. So we asked him. And he stared at us. And we asked him. And he pointed. We still weren't quite sure, but we made a guess.

AWKWARD STORY #2

We spent a good 2 hours sitting in the back of K's truck, just eating our snowy deliciousness and talking with each other. The stand closed and the people working there (Mumbler and the girl and possibly the girls BF, we're not quite sure) left and it was dark. Some time later a truck pulls into the parking lot and sits there for a while; no one got out. We were in mid-sentence when one of the guys yells out at us "Hey, is this a hangout spot?" I really wasn't sure how to respond. "Uh, yeah?" "Oh, okay, well like why are all these cars here empty?" "Uh, I'm not really sure." "Oh, okay. Sorry to have bothered you." "It's fine."

Right, so that was the extent of our conversation, but really, why else would these guys be parked there and ask us those questions if they weren't there for a drug deal. Seriously. So, we're pretty sure that's what went down after we left, because not too long after our encounter, a car drove by and honked. We're thinking that was the signal. Yikes! The seedy underbelly of small town America.

Hooker...like a prostitute!

Okay, so I am currently employed by the University. I work in an office as the receptionist. This means that I am that friendly face you see when you come in to deliver budget forms and the friendly voice you hear when you call to ask questions about moving a chair from your office to the one across the hall. Needless to say, I get a lot of interesting phone calls.

I hate answering the phone. I don't know why, but something about it just makes me want to puke. I'm slowly getting over that reflex, but like I said, slowly. Anyway, I get a lot of people who want to tell me everything they need to know and then have me tell them the answer. Well, I have news for you: I don't know anything! I am just now getting to the point where I can tell you who you need to talk to, but please don't ask me to tell you how to fill out a fixed asset request form or to go and look at an item that is up for bid. I can't do that! Sorry, little side rant...

Back to the story of the day. This morning I got a call from a gentleman who shall remain nameless, but I thought he said his name was --- Tucker. So, I repeated the name to make sure I had the right one so I could tell my boss who was calling her. Boy was I wrong! His name was NOT --- Tucker!

"You said your name was --- Tucker, right?"
"NO. HOOKER! Hooker, like a prostitute!"
"Oh! Okay. Sorry! *giggle giggle*"

Yes, that's right. The poor man has probably had this happen before, and this is the way he chooses to explain his last name. Great choice. :D