The workweek is almost over after having barely started. Eric is home after nearly a week away visiting his mom in Florida. There is a choreographed garbage truck dance a mile from my house on Saturday. And I got to listen in on one side of the conversation as my sister fielded a phone call from someone wanting to host a Tweetup at the restaurant she manages:
XXXX Restaurant at XXX, this is Jillbert.
Hi, XXXX.
Yes, I know what Twitter is.
Yes.
How many people?
Okay.
Uh-huh.Sure.
Animals?
Uh-huh.
Okay, uh, what kind of animals* are we talking about?
Oh. Well...
You have a permit for them.
Okay.
Uh-huh.
Of course.
Right.
Okay.
Haha, okay.
Uh-huh.
Well, I'm not sure. We have an outdoor patio...
Right.Okay, when would this be?
I think so. What time?
Well, I'll have to check with the owner. If I don't get back with you within an hour, I'll call you back first thing tomorrow.
Okay, great. How do you spell your name?
*Wallabees, and maybe snakes, but on second thought, maybe not the snakes. It is apparently not a prank.