It was...uh...Chris

Workweasel already introduced you to Mrs. Anderson and Mouth Ninja. This post involves them both.

Mouth Ninja was at my desk going on and on about something. No physical or verbal cue actually tells her that a conversation is done. In fact, most of my conversations with her don't really end, they just sort of whither and die. We look at each other like a couple who has been married for 50 years and don't have anything left to say. At this point she just sort of exhales an awkward laugh and slips away. Conversation not over, it just expired from a long, slow and painful demise.

Weasel knows what kind of trap it can be to have Mouth Ninja at your desk so he called upon Mrs. Anderson to rescue me. At this point we were still new to Mrs. Anderson and our abuse of her services were pretty widespread in the first few days. Weasel thought that she'd leave my desk if I had to take a call but he miscalculated how Mouth Ninja can ignore everyday social prompts that the rest of us take for granted.

The phone rang and I answered it. She stood there. Watching. I began to pretend to talk as the automated voice of Mrs. Anderson droned on. It went like this:

Sloth: Hello?
Phone: This is Mrs. Anderson blah blah blah
Sloth: Okay, good I like what you've done there.
Phone: Blah blah blah blah
Sloth: Uh, okay I can get that for you.
Mouth Ninja: (Glaring stare)
Sloth: Okay, I have to go.

As soon as I hung up I got the third degree from Mouth Ninja as she pointed her question at me as if I were at gunpoint. "Who was that?"

First of all I'm a terrible liar. So I just used the name of the last person I had spoken to on the phone. "It was...uh....Chris." I was obviously lying.

"Chris who?" She gestured toward the phone demanding an answer.

"Uh, Chris Hew...litt.....pack...ard. I uttered the last four syllables of Chris' actual name very slowly while trying to think on my feet but I knew I wasn't convincing anyone that Mrs. Anderson's call was from anyone we actually knew.

"What did he want!?" she persisted now with her arms crossed.

"He just wanted to tell me about..." At this point our conversation is interrupted by Weasel who begins snorting and weezing. He kicked himself away from his desk rolling his chair back while making noises that were a futile attempt to contain himself from a hysterical outburst.

"I recognize that phone number! Where was he calling from?" She looked down at the LCD readout on my phone which showed the incoming number and recognized it. Like I said, we abused Mrs. Anderson enough times that the number was familiar to Ninja. Since Chris wasn't likely calling from an outside number I realized that my lie could easily be discovered if Chris had walked by my desk. By this time Weasel had run out of the room

I redirected the conversation back to the subject of her previous monologue and she was content to spin her rhetorical wheels for another five minutes before the lifespan of the conversation had run out.

That was a close call. Since then we don't summon Mrs. Anderson to rescue calls to our own phones. It's just not worth the third degree.