Telephony

Story Sent in by Scott:

Erica and I arranged to meet outside of a cafe on our first date. I arrived about a minute before our meeting time, parked my car, and hurried along the sidewalk to the place, right around a corner.

As I approached the corner, I heard the sound of a young woman with a loud voice. I continued on and found that the voice belonged to Erica herself: she sat on a bench right in front of the cafe, seemingly talking to herself. She said, "Yes, Steve, I agree, that was a lot of fun Steve. I'm so glad that we're still friends, Steve."

I gave her a funny look, then she saw me. "Oh!" she said, "I'll call you back, Steve."

That explained it. A wireless headset. That I couldn't see.

She reached into her pocket, apparently hit a button, and said to me, "Sorry. My Bluetooth."

It was all good. We introduced each other, then went inside. The place was known for its desserts, and that's what we ordered. We had a good conversation for several minutes, and I had just asked her, "What sort of articles did you write for your college paper?" when she said,

"Hello? Hi, Herman."

"What?"

She took her hand, which had been under the table, and held her pointer finger up, then looked up and away, the universal look of someone on the phone. Her phone must have rang and she had activated her wireless headset by answering the call in her pocket. I still couldn't see her headset, though. Must have been tiny.

She went on, "I'd love to right now, but I'm out on a date. Yes. Maybe later on. We'll see. Okay, thanks, Herman." She clicked the button in her pocket.

I suggested, "Maybe silencing the ring would be a good idea?"

She said, "I–" then clicked the button in her pocket again. "Hello?" she asked, exasperated, "Yes, hi Larry." She rolled her eyes at me. I sighed. She continued, "No, I can't meet up tonight. Maybe later this week. I'm on another date now. Okay. Bye."

She hung up. "You're awfully popular," I said.

She groaned, "I know. I'm booked solid."

I asked, "Can I see your headset?"

She froze. "What?"

I said, "Your headset. I'm not going to do anything with it, but I've never heard of one so small. I can't even see it. May I?"

"No," she said.

"Why not?"

She laughed, "Because, I… it's… I'm not going to show you my headset."

"Why not?"

"It's a… I'm… my headset… it's a first date!" she finished, explaining absolutely nothing.

"And showing me your headset is too personal?"

She breathed faster. Then, she said, "Yes? Hi… uh… Mom," then said to me, "Excuse me, I have to take this. Be right back," and she excused herself from the table.

What was truly fascinating about that call was that Erica didn't hit the button in her pocket to accept the call. It just picked up, apparently, by itself, in her ear.

When she came back, she said, "Look, I have to go. I'm sorry. We can… here," she tossed a $10 bill on the table, "Yeah, I have to go now. Bye!" She left me there. She and her invisible, nonexistent headset.