Raft3r, finally, bought a call card.
I spent the whole weekend looking for one but was unsuccessful. Locals didn’t seem to understand the words that are coming out of my mouth. Sorry, Chris Tucker. You knew that line was coming.
I never thought a $10 call card can bring a person so much joy. To hear familiar voices from Manila was way beyond cool.
I talked to my nieces, which is always fun. The girl I have been seeing as of late was close to tears when I called. Clingy. Break up alert.
Speaking of phone calls, here’s a strange little story straight from The Marshall Islands.
I received a call from my hotel room. It was front desk. She asked if I knew someone named Jessica. I said no and hung up.
Phone rang. This time, Jessica was on the other line. She sounded friendly and I was bored. The chick said she knew me and was delighted I was back in the island again.
Fun as it was, I decided to end the game. I told her she must have mistaken me for someone else. Dead silence followed.
Then she asked if we could meet. Apparently, she was at my hotel lobby. I quietly sneaked in for a look. I didn’t see anyone I particularly liked.
So I went back to my room, bolted the door, and turned down the phone ringer.