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Stopping at somewhere and trying to use calling cards properly to communicate with someone there. We (was with at least one other person, unclear) had one of ours, and tried to pick the right one (all fancily engraved) from more than one possibility at the place we had stopped at. The first one looked possible, but the 2nd one (something like Chatenbrieu, on a gold background as I recall) then struck me as very likely the right one (as if I didn't recall fully the right name, but would likely know it when I saw it).
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Being a guest in a (suburban) house. I considered going out, but caught a glimpse of my hostess (Mom of the house), and realized dinner was too close to being ready. I then considered going downstairs, but in the end settled for going out to the yard. Once there, I heard this phone rang. It was actually just over the fence to the neighbor's place. Why I answered it, I don't know, but I did - and proceeded to ask the caller for whom she was calling, so that I could get them, preferably have them call her back, as this phone wasn't our phone. I became increasingly perturbed when the caller wouldn't (far as I could tell) give me a clear answer, though I got that she was someone called 'Cassie'. (The thought that since this wasn't a phone on my hosts' property it wasn't actually their phone or likely for any of them didn't cross my logic circuits). Finally, the teenaged daughter of my hosts came by and I gave her the phone, feeling fairly satisfied that it had all worked out.
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Being a guest in a (suburban) house. I considered going out, but caught a glimpse of my hostess (Mom of the house), and realized dinner was too close to being ready. I then considered going downstairs, but in the end settled for going out to the yard. Once there, I heard this phone rang. It was actually just over the fence to the neighbor's place. Why I answered it, I don't know, but I did - and proceeded to ask the caller for whom she was calling, so that I could get them, preferably have them call her back, as this phone wasn't our phone. I became increasingly perturbed when the caller wouldn't (far as I could tell) give me a clear answer, though I got that she was someone called 'Cassie'. (The thought that since this wasn't a phone on my hosts' property it wasn't actually their phone or likely for any of them didn't cross my logic circuits). Finally, the teenaged daughter of my hosts came by and I gave her the phone, feeling fairly satisfied that it had all worked out.