An English In Kentucky


















Wednesday November 13th 2013  Tim Candler


      It might be time to enter the words "Tidy" and "Vacuum Cleaner" into the conversation between myself and the room where I sleep.  All very well sitting here marveling at the natural condition, but what real use is a card reminding me that I had a dentist's appointment on February 10th 2011, at ten thirty in the morning.  However if I turn the card over, I see that I have written the home telephone number on the back.  And had this card been in its proper place a couple of days ago, it might have saved me a great deal of awkward digging around while under scrutiny. 

     From years of bitter experience I have learned to keep a record of the home telephone number in the wallet.  This way, when the number is requested of me, I casually open my wallet, and there it is clearly readable. Last time I was asked for my home telephone number, I casually reached for the wallet, I could find my postal zip code, my street number, my insurance information,  my email password,  but no sign of the home telephone number.  And it's an odd thing, but when it comes to the home telephone number, a desperate hunting around in the wallet, followed by "I don't remember it," doesn't cut the mustard. Nor does it produce any sort of constructive or helpful reaction from the home telephone number requesting party.


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