a chilling message
I'm the kind of person who loves getting messages of any kind. Cards, letters, email, blog comments, phone calls, text messages. If it's for me, I'll take it with glee.*
Generally my mail consists of nice, heart warming messages, unless it's a bill... but every now and then a freak message sneaks through and shocks me.
Like the messages left on my voice mail when I lived in London. A strange man with a deep European accent kept asking to meet me. Somehow he found my number, mistook me for a hooker and wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. It was a little disconcerting. Was he staking out my flat? Following me around the city? Tracking my movements? Was it a prank by a friend? After my third desperate attempt to convince him I really was not a hooker and definitely did not want to meet him, he apologetically retreated and didn't call again. I can only surmise that somehow my phone number made its way onto one of those delightful escort advertising cards, famous in London phone booths! Wonder what 'my' picture looked like?!
Anyway, all this came flooding back the other day when I received a text message that sent chills down my spine. And not because they got my name wrong:
Hi Cecil
Just reminding you of your appt on Tues at 1:45pm Braeside Dental
Oh my. It's really happening. After ten years I'm really going to the dentist. And they've reminded me, so I can't even claim I forgot. There's no escaping it. I have to go. My teeth are chattering just thinking about it.
This is far, far worse than being mistaken for a hooker.
*OK, so I'm not so great at sending cards, letters, email, blog comments, and text messages. Or making phone calls. I apologise if you are one of those who has experienced my neglect.
posted by cecily @ 8:39 pm
4 comments
4 Comments:
Your neglect is acceptable, but only because mine is as bad. If I get the chance to go to heaven, I will have to write all the people I ignored before entering the pearly gates. It will take a while for me I assure you.
I used to hate the dentist too. I finally found a really nice dentist that specializes in cowards. One day he gave me a shot of Novocain and I cried, how embarrassing. He just looked at me but has been very sweet since. I love my dentist! No more fear for me, he's cute too. So I go every year, twice if I can.
Oh sweet sweet shivering-in-her-boots Cecily! My heart yearns to comfort you. Going to the dentist makes me nervous, too. So much, and I always have good reports. I, like you and Sandy, specialize in cowardice when it comes to this.
Do keep your appointment though - we are watching!
When it's over, and you get to walk out of that dentist door, do a little jig - YIPPEE it'll be OVER!
(I want to thank you on behalf of myself and all of my family for your detailed description on your climate which you left on my blog awhile ago. We LOVED reading about it. Again, thanks for taking the time to do that. Appreciated!)
Or maybe, like me, you'll need to get 6 fillings in one sitting and start root canal therapy. That would be fun.
We're waiting to hear how the dentist appointment was.
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