A Room with a Goose

Story Sent in by Tommy:

I can't really blame Marina for how things ended up. If it was anyone's fault it was mine. But in my defense, her voice sounded almost exactly like the honking of a goose.

I'm not exaggerating when I say that her voice would sound perfect coming out of a cartoon fowl. When she opened her mouth, what burst forth was a braying and honking of biblical proportions. I feel bad saying it but that's what it was.

In person it was even worse than over the phone. She and I had spoken twice briefly by phone: the first time I thought that the voice she used was a joke. The second time, I also thought it was a joke. So when she spoke to me in person, I was still a bit unprepared.

Aside from her quacky voice, she was pretty cute. I couldn't make it over her voice, though. When she ordered her dinner, it sounded like a duck ordering a wrap. When she asked for more pop, she sounded like she was going to honk and ask for bread crusts at any moment. I knew that I shouldn't have felt embarrassed, but I really couldn't help myself.

She gave me a hug goodbye afterward and wrote me a nice email. She was sweet. And kind. And nice. But her voice sounded too much like Sesame Street's Bert for me to imagine doing anything intimate with her.

That night, I had a dream that a dozen geese flew into my room and honked at me in her voice. One of them even wore a little pair of glasses exactly like Marina's own.

When I didn't write her back (what was I supposed to say?) she called me and we spoke for a while over the phone. I felt bad telling her that I didn't think we were a match, but she took it well.

Then, she actually said, "Don't take this the wrong way, but you kind of sound like a goose. Has anyone ever told you that?"

She laughed a little. I smiled and turned it right back around, saying, "I was thinking the same thing about you."

I waited to hear a goosey response from her, but she replied by hanging up on me.