D is on a phone call that has her pounding her head into the desk. She hit the speaker phone so I could hear it too and share the joy.
Effeminate male caller: I’m so glaaaaaad you all are there…I just had a dream that you recovered my vehicle!
D: Umm, I’m sorry but we don’t deal with vehicles here.*tries to give him number to the tow lot*
EMC: No no no, it’s a bicycle. Is a bicycle not a vehicle? I consider it to be so.
D: *eyeroll* We classify them differently, but we DO take bikes. Do you have a serial number?
EMC: It’s not a bike, it’s a BUY-SICK-EL. And that IS a VEE-HICK-EL. Don’t they teach you all that?
D: *much less friendly* Did you actually want me to try to see if we have it or so you want to keep getting smart?
EMC: *huffs* Well, it’s a specialized type of bicycle, you should just be able to pick it out when I describe it to you.
D: Bikes are stored in a different section of the building and we can’t see them from our desks. *queries computer for recently brought in bikes* No bikes have been turned in during the last 48 hours.
EMC: Oh but it was stolen yesterday, so you simply must have it. It has to exist somewhere, right? Does it not exist? Don’t you all take classes to know if it’s been pawned somewhere?
D: *headdesk*
I finally take over the call, assure the ‘gentleman’ that we do not have his bike, and get him off the phone. His last comment is that the dream was VERY real and he’s SURE we have his bike and just don’t know how to do our jobs to get it back to him. Yeah, I’ll be sure to give locating your bike some extra effort, pal.
He has since called back, several times a day, every day. The bike- excuse me- BICYCLE has NOT turned up.
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