Wolfe’s Woofer: Don, The Mechanic

Sunday, February 18th, 2018

“R-i-i-ing! R-i-i-ing!”
“Will you get that phone?” I asked Sherry. “I’m busy changing the strings on my guitar.”
“Who was it?” I asked, when she came back in the living room.
“It was some guy calling to know if I know where Don, the mechanic is.”
“What did you tell him?”
“He sounded like he might be drunk so I just hung up.”
That call came at around 7:30. At around 9 o’clock the phone rang again.
“Hello, Dennis speaking,” I answered.
“Did you say Dennis?”
“Yes, this is Dennis Wolfe.”
“Dennis, do you know where Don, the mechanic, is?”
“Hey, did you call earlier asking for this Don?”
“I might have. I can’t remember much.”
“Well, I’ve got news for you. I don’t know where Don, the mechanic, is and I don’t care. You sound like you’re drunk. Go home and sober up and don’t call this number again.”
I went to the store at around 10 o’clock and when I got back Sherry said, “That guy called again.”
“Which guy? The guy asking about the mechanic?”
“Yes. He sounded really drunk this time. I told him to quit calling.”
When the phone rang again at 11:30 I was already pretty hot under the collar.
“This is Dennis,” I shouted into the phone. “What do you want?”
“Hey, Dennis. Can you please tell me where Don, the mechanic, is?”
“I don’t know of any Don, the mechanic.”
“I’m Don,” the guy said, “but I don’t have a clue about where I am.”

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