The vacant computer gets occasional use by meandering chemists whose own computers are busily computing chemistry, or else by the Jolly Green Giant because he likes to irritate me while he's surfing the 'net. But the phone next to that computer remains out of regular service. Ergo, whenever it rings, we know it's going to be a wrong number.
Well, today, i thought it was time for Francesca to return from her five year sabbatical. Martha Samus has only been with us for a year, and i don't think anybody even told her about the original Francesca Incident. She was working quietly at her own computer when the tenantless phone interrupted the silence.
I rolled my chair over to it and lifted the receiver, keeping my voice in the same monotone i use when doctors call our real phone number. "[name of lab], this is Francesca."
Martha Samus continued to work for a moment, perhaps not at first realizing exactly what i'd just done. Then suddenly, she spun around, her eyes resembling albino watermelons (or something large and round-ish, anyway), clutching her mouth to stifle the laughter so the person on the phone wouldn't hear. Speaking of the person on the phone:
"Hiiiiii...i'mmm...tryyyiinngg...toooo...reaaach...someone by the naaammee...ooffff... You know what, i think i have the wrong number." Click.
And then the laughing began.
Shortly thereafter, i headed out for lunch, leaving a customary note on the in/out board that i had gone to Subway. When i returned, it had been vandalized, stating that Francesca had, in fact, gone in my stead. I walked into the cubicle, where Martha Samus and Greg sat expectantly. "Francesca at Subway, huh?"
Martha Samus giggled a bit. "I...may have told Greg..."
Within minutes, my boss, Karen, walked past me and said, "Hi Trevor...or should i say, Francesca!"
Sigh.
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