Tasha's Room
Apr 5, 2012 12:26:59 GMT -5
Post by Tasha on Apr 5, 2012 12:26:59 GMT -5
Tasha had spent the last forty-five minutes on the phone, most of it playing phone tag. Thanks to the wonkiness of this Paris, some people were harder to get hold of than others, and none of it had to do with distance and all of it with time. She'd been able to check back in New York with friends, giving them an update on her activities, but the contact she'd made before coming to France seemed to no longer have a phone number, and calling information got her nothing but a busy signal.
A few minutes later and a flash of insight she pulled up an honest-to-god switchboard operator (on her cellphone) and managed to track down her contact at last--who, it seems, didn't have a personal phone but rather used a party line. ("Seriously? Who the hell uses those anymore?"). After several minutes spent trying to get his neighbor off the line so the conversation could be private, Tasha was finally able to talk to her contact.
All of this to discover that while the people she was looking for lived in Paris, they currently weren't here but...back in New freaking York.
"Oh, sonuvabitch." She snapped.
With a sigh, she started to make arrangements to head to what she deemed the Funky New York of this weird world, which apparently seemed to be in some bizarre timefuck that had fictional events happen but before 9-11, so huge swathes of the city was being rebuilt, but they still had the Twin Towers. Whatever. She could deal with it.
She was also vaguely upset, as she'd met someone rather interesting and had finally started to get used to Paris.
A few minutes later and a flash of insight she pulled up an honest-to-god switchboard operator (on her cellphone) and managed to track down her contact at last--who, it seems, didn't have a personal phone but rather used a party line. ("Seriously? Who the hell uses those anymore?"). After several minutes spent trying to get his neighbor off the line so the conversation could be private, Tasha was finally able to talk to her contact.
All of this to discover that while the people she was looking for lived in Paris, they currently weren't here but...back in New freaking York.
"Oh, sonuvabitch." She snapped.
With a sigh, she started to make arrangements to head to what she deemed the Funky New York of this weird world, which apparently seemed to be in some bizarre timefuck that had fictional events happen but before 9-11, so huge swathes of the city was being rebuilt, but they still had the Twin Towers. Whatever. She could deal with it.
She was also vaguely upset, as she'd met someone rather interesting and had finally started to get used to Paris.