When my telephone stopped working, I called the telephone company from a booth across the road.
"We'll send a technician tomorrow morning," they said.
"Between eight and one."
"Could you be more precise, please? Say between eight and ten, or between eleven and one?"
"Sorry, we can't. The technician can't time himself to a second and there are always emergencies."
"I am an emergency."
"Not the only one."
"You mean I'll have to take half a day off from work and stay at home waiting for him?"
"Only if you want your telephone repaired."
The same conversation repeated itself when the washing machine, the television, and the dish washer broke down, and when I called the plumber and the electrician.
Then one day I fell in love and proposed marriage. She accepted, and we fixed the date for our wedding.
"What time shall we meet for the ceremony?" she asked.
"Wait for me between eight and one," I said.
I am still a bachelor.
©1997 Zygmunt Frankel - All Rights Reserved.
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