Bob
Batz
Read Bob's bio and previous columns
November 26, 2007
7 a.m.: No Time Like
the Present to Call Your Pal
Every morning around seven when I’m driving to work, I’m amazed at the
number of people who are talking on their cell phones.
Some are teenagers, others senior citizens.
There they are, one hand on the steering wheel, the other hand pressing
a cell phone to their ear.
What I can’t figure out is who in the heck are they talking to that time
of day?
When I stagger out of bed in the morning, the last thing on my mind is
calling someone on my cell phone. And even if I did dial up a relative
or acquaintance, what would we talk about?
I
decided to give it a try the other day, so I phoned my best friend Bill.
The phone rang once, twice, three times and then I heard Bill’s voice.
“Hello,” he said, groggily.
“Hey, guy,” I replied. “Long time no talk. How are things going?”
There was a long pause, then Bill said, “Who in the hell is this?”
“It’s Bob, your good friend,” I replied.
There was another pause, then he said “Who?”
I
chuckled. “It’s Bob,” I told him again. “I’m driving to work and I just
got the urge to talk to you. How ‘bout those Bengals, huh?”
I
heard what I thought was a loud groan, then Bill said, “Bob who?”
“Bob Batz,” I replied.
There was another period of silence, then Bill said “Oh, hi, Brad.”
“Not Brad, Bob, “ I said.
Bill came back with “Whatever.”
“Great hearing your voice, buddy,” I said. “I hope I didn’t get you up.”
“Naw,” he answered, his voice tinged with sarcasm, “I had to get out of
bed to answer the phone anyway.”
I
peered out the car window. “Great day out here, Billy Boy. Sunny, a few
puffy cumulus clouds floating like sailing ships across . . .”
Bill groaned again. “For gosh sakes it’s 7 a.m.,” he said.
There was a long pause, then Bill said, “Hey, can you call me back? I
have another call.”
“Sure, buddy,” I said. “When should I call back?”
“Try me in December . . . of 2009,” he replied.
© 2007
North Star Writers Group. May not be republished without permission.
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