Story Sent in by Carlo:
Ella was late to our date. There was no phone call or anything resembling an effort to contact me, and so I tried her phone and she picked up.
"Hi!" she said, chipper as anything, "I'm stuck in my mailbox."
"You—? Okay, how did that happen?"
"I just stuck my hand in, and now it won't come out. Weird, huh?"
"Yeah. So, are we not meeting up, then? Do you need help?"
She replied, "I think I can break it off my arm. Try me again in 10."
She hung up. Guessing that it was an over-elaborate scheme to weasel out of the date, I left the garden center where I was to have met her, and I took a walk further into town.
I called her back 15 minutes later, just to be sure that there was to be no meeting. She picked up and said, "I'm here. Where are you?"
"You're at the garden center? Why didn't you call?"
"I asked you to call me. Did you forget?"
We argued back and forth for a few minutes, and when I made it back to the garden center, there she was.
"Hey," she said, "We need a do-over. Wait here."
She left before I could say much else. About 10 minutes later, she called and said, "Hey. I'm stuck in my mailbox. I'm going to be late." Then, much louder, she said, "Call me in 10."
I went home instead.