True Confessions - The Answering Machine.

Tweet

There is no in between. You are either "A" or "B." Personally, as I find myself hilarious, I'm "A." And this is about an answering machine. An "A" story about an answering machine. But before this particular answering machine story took place, I was in the United States Army. I did my basic training at Fort Jackson, South Carolina. Counting myself, our platoon had just three guys from Colorado, so we hung out together. One of the guys lived in Denver, and when I returned from active duty, I was hanging out with one of my buddies from Colorado Springs, who had since moved to Denver. One night, after we had smoked a bunch of weed, I figured that I'd look up my buddy from basic. Found his number in the phone book, called, and got the answering machine. Did I mention that I was also drinking a bottle of cheap fortified wine? I identified myself, that I was in Denver with my friend, and then all hell broke loose. "Give me a call at (303) XXX-XXXX...Oh, wait, that's YOUR number." After I realized that I had instructed my buddy to call me at his own number, I began cracking up. Uncontrollably. As if I had just heard the funniest joke in the history of comedy. And each time I made an attempt to compose myself so that I could read the proper number, I just started laughing even harder. Eventually, the machine finally cut me off. I had to call back with the correct number, during which I was still hawhawhawing. I barely got the number out. My army buddy did make it over that night. "My dad thought your message was hilarious. He kept listening to it over and over." I'm definitely "A."