After all that excitement, I take a few days off. This has became pretty much a job, so I need to brush my teeth and get caught up on some house type things. Sweep the carpet. I don’t have a vacuum. You don’t need a vacuum. Just wind up real hard and swing a broom at the carpet and aim it at a spot that’s easier to sweep. I swing the carpet bits into the kitchen, then sweep those bits under the oven. I don’t have a dustpan and fuck the landlord or landlady or whoever owns this place and makes me pay for it. I hope there’s a great big pile of shit under there that makes them shake their heads when they uncover it. Too late! you should have checked it out before you gave me back my security deposit! A little payback for them for not fixing anything in here and raising my rent all the time. I mean, I don’t pay it, but that’s bullshit that they keep asking for more but give me less. They get a fat pile of shit under their oven for that kind of behavior.

I fancy up the place, all the while taking a look or two outside to see how the pile of miasmic pudding skin is doing. I don’t know what it’s made of, but whoever came up with it forgot to put in some preservatives. It’s like when you buy the fancy bread at the store, touch it one time with your bare hands, then the next day you grab it up to make some kind of fancy bread sandwich, something that cost you triple what another shit loaf would cost mind you, and the whole thing is green and fuzzy. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I still eat it after scraping off the green dirt tasting shit, but still.

I don’t think that the fake building skin is made out of bread, otherwise there would be more birds around, shit, people would be around too if they knew free bread was just sitting out for the taking. Most people. Okay, some people. I know I would.

The building skin is deteriorating so rapidly that I can see chunks of concrete through rotted open patches. Gross. I haven’t forgotten the small furniture I stole from the building, although, is it stealing if no one owns it? Found. I found it. Finders keepers. It’s still where I left it on the counter, not in any specific order and the little jug with the tiny lemon slices is empty and the ice cubes are melted of course. I found the little lemon pieces in my pocket but I don’t know what to do with them. Send them somewhere where people can look at unusually small fruit? Is a lemon a fruit. Pretty sure it is. I just left them in my pocket, they smell fine and I don’t see any reason why my pocket shouldn’t smell like a lemon. All kinds of things are lemon scented.

I wonder what became of the security guards. They were assholes, but I hope they didn’t get covered in that deflated building. They probably weren’t real either, probably they were the equivalent of balloon animals although they didn’t sound squeaky.

I get up and look closely at the small furniture on my counter. I take a magnifying glass from my junk drawer, yes I have a magnifying glass. I have a ton of shit in here. I scope in close at the conference table, the wood grain isn’t big like if the table was made out of a big piece of wood then hand carved down to a little piece. The grain was close close together, like the table was made out of a tiny tree. I turn the table over and look at the underside. There’s a gold sticker that says Stewart and Sons. Who the fuck is Stewart? Is he really tiny, or does he just have very steady hands?

I grab the little conference phone and the handset dangles. I put it back in its cradle. I get an idea. I search around for a bit, opening drawers and the like, then I find my box of toothpicks. I get in close to the phone with my magnifying glass, and poke one of the numbers on the face of the phone. It depresses just fine. Just like a real phone. Jesus, whoever made this put in a lot of detail. I beep boop the other numbers on the phone and they all depress too. Amazing. I take a close look at the phone cord, this thing that plugs into the wall, this too is immaculately detailed. I wonder... Nah. Yes. No. Where would I find a phone jack small enough to plug this baby into?

While I ponder on that, I start setting up the furniture on the counter. Looks pretty fukkin’ cool. I bet I’m the only person in the world that has this kind of setup on their counter. Fancy small office furniture. I cross my arms and stare at it for a while, marveling. Then I start looking all around my living room for a phone jack. This is the age of everyone carrying around a cellphone, but the big ‘ol businesses make it a selling point that with your internet, you also get the non optional fee of them connections you to a... wait for it... landline! So people can call you on that all the time when you’re never around to answer it! Amazing folks. Simply amazing. Very smart, those business types.

I find one. I find two. Why would you need two landlines. What if they both ring at the same time and you can’t make up your mind which one you should answer? Unless you put them right next to each other, I guess you could answer them at the same time, but then would the person at the other end hear your voice twice? Or would you hear their voice twice? What if you called your own landline with the two phones next to eachother with a cellphone, then you answered both phones at the same time? Would you hear your own voice three times?! Holy shit. What if you reversed the landline phones so that the talkie part was in the heary part and vice versa, then you said something into the cellphone? Is that what infinity is? Fuck you Einstein, I’m the genius.

I kind of want a landline now. I do have a cellphone, but it’s just one of those that you get from the corner store where you pay for a minute card. I do’t think I’ve used it much, just the once to see if it worked. I called a pizza place because I saw someone do that one time on TV where they called someone and the person at the end of the line just brought it to their house! Insane. So I had to try it. I called up the place and said “is it true that I can ask you for a pizza, and you’ll just bring it to me?” The pizza guy on the other line says “what’s your zip?” I say “what’s a zip? Is that like where you have an account to get pizza? Like a pizza profile?” He says “no. A zip code. What’s your zip code. We only deliver in a certain area.” “Really?” I say “then how did that one guy on TV order a pizza from you? I’m pretty sure he was in California, which is pretty far away from here I think.” The pizza man sighs, then goes quiet. “Hello?” I say “Are you still there?” “Yes. I’m still here. What’s your address, sir? I can get the zip from my computer.” He sounds worn out “Jeeze, buddy” I say “I’m just doing you a favor, getting a pizza and all. I don’t know my address. My building doesn’t have anything on it except for some bricks and a little stick figure swan someone put on it with chalk. Probably some kind of kid.” “Okay, sir, have a nice day, thank you for your business.” “Don’t hang up!” I shout “Uh, this is the first time I’ve done this, I only saw someone do it on TV once and sure would like steaming hot pie right about now, or however long it takes for it to come here. There has to be a way to get that pizza here. I needs it.” I look at the phone, we’ve been talking for a few minutes and I see that the minutes I put on the phone are running down. I bought 60. hopefully it doesn’t take that long to order a pizza.

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The voice comes back on the line and I can picture him, squeezing his closed eyes with his fingers. “Can you describe where you are? what does it look like over there?” I look around, “uh, I have a grey carpet...” I look up “I got a white ceiling with... a cobweb in the corner.” “No, like, what does it look like outside?” I look out the window, “it’s pretty nice out today, couple clouds, some trees, a sidewalk...” he cuts me off “no, like...” I hear a blubbery lip sound like blowing a sad raspberry. “Like, what color is your building?” “Ah!” I say “red! No!” I look out the window “Yeah! Red! Red bricks!”

“Okay, good, now what color is the roof?” I fast walk outside and gaze up, “can you still hear me? I just walked outside.”

“Yes. I can still hear you.”

“Okay, good, because I’m not sure what kind of range these cellphones have.”

“They usually go forever far sir.”

“That’s good, because I wasn’t sure. Okay, looking at the top of the building, the roof is... kind of a... blue white? I think it’s metal. Metal roof.”

“Good, now what’s across the street from your house.”

“It’s an apartment.”

“Okay, apartment. What’s across the street from your apartment?”

“There’s a... parking lot? with a shed on it? Car lot? Not really sure, I’ve been trying to figure that out myself.”

”is there anything around that has a bright color? Like a building that’s pink or something?”

I look at my phone again, it’s been 15 minutes now.

”uh, yeah, one sec.” I put the phone to my chest and jog to the left of my apartment building. I put the phone back up to my ear, “Yeah! There’s a yellow building with a big thing on top of it. I think it’s one of those rooftop gardens or something, I see a tree on top!”

”that’s good sir. Is there a name on the building?”

This is hard. I squint my eyes and see some gold lettering, “Favorite Pastime...s? Favorite Fasttime? Yeah, favorite fasttimes!”

I hear clicking on the other end of the phone, clickity click, pause, click click click. He comes back on “okay, I see a Flavorite Fashions, is that it.” I squint again “yeah! I think so!” “Good, and you say your apartment is right across from it?”

”no, more like, to the side and back a ways. Kitty corner.”

”got it. We can deliver in that area. What kind of pizza would you like delivered?”

fuck yeah! I can’t believe this actually works. I feel like I’m in a movie. “I’ll have the works. All the workings on top of it. Pile ‘em on up!”

”you got it, our special works pizza comes with a side of garlic knots and a two liter of cherry pepsi. The total will be $65 and of course the delivery fee of 10%, don’t forget to tip your delivery person, they put in those long hours and get sad when they don’t get extra money.”

”$65?” I say “like, 65 money?” “Yes sir, the pizza with the works comes with everything.” I scratch my head. Something doesn’t seem right about this. “But when I saw it on TV, the pizza comes, you eat it, and that’s it. I didn’t see anything about money or anything. You have to pay for it? I thought it was like a service. I pay taxes.” I don’t actually pay taxes, but I could pay taxes, he doesn’t know that I don’t pay taxes. “You’re like a library, right?” The line goes dead. Fukkin’ pizza. Whatever. I didn’t want pizza anyway.

So I have the cellphone and that was the one call I made on it. That’s it. I grab it from the junk drawer and beep the power button. Nothing. I guess that was a while ago that I made that call. I reach around for some cord or something to plug it in. Got it! I pop that baby in the wall and the phone makes a beep sound when I shove the wire in it. I think that’s a good sign. I stand and wait. I look at the phone. 1%. I wait some more. 2%. I do some jumping jacks in the kitchen. 3%. Fuck it, good enough.

I leaf through the phone book and see a business that might have what I’m looking for. I hold the phone close to my eye while I dial the number. It rings. Good. This busted ass no pizza gettin’ having ass phone still works. A voice comes on the line “hello?” I say “hello?” The voice says “hi.” I don’t know what to do next, so I say hello again. I look at the phone. 2%.

“Do you need something?” Right to business, not even a “how’s the weather over there” or anything. what is this world coming to? “Yeah, I have like, a tiny phone that I stole... found and it has a little plug that doesn’t fit in one of these jacks for bigger phones. I mean, it does, but it just kind of rattles around in there since the hole is too big for it.”

”you need a tiny jack for a tiny phone? A tiny phone jack adaptor?”

“Yeah! That! You got that over there?”

”no. We don’t have tiny things like that here. Just normal sized things.” I must say. I am severely fukkin’ disappointed. I say, sadly “okay” choking back a sob “thank you for your time” I start to hang up the phone and see that it’s at 1%. I hear “wait!” I hold the phone back up to my ear. “Have you tried just sticking some tinfoil around the tiny plug and ramming it into the jack hole? that might work?” The phone goes dead. 0% I guess. Foil you say. Hmm hmm I say. I schwiff off a piece of foil and gently wrap it around the tiny jack on the office phone. This might work, or else I can at least pretend to talk into it if it doesn’t. Either way. Same thing.

I approach the phone jack behind my couch and aim the foil at the hole. I shove her on in. No sparks or explosions or anything, so I guess that’s a good sign. I put the little receiver next to my ear. Nothing. Fuck! Wait. Maybe the sound is too small to hear. I put the receiver in my ear, right on inside all the way until I can feel it hit my drum. There’s a sound. I’m not sure if I’m imagining it, but it sounds different than when I didn’t have the phone jammed in my ear. I test it out. I mash the phone buttons with my pinky and I hear little beep beep boop boop sounds inside. It works!

I pull the phone out of my ear. There’s a little chunk of yellow wax on it. Gross. I wipe the phone on the carpet and hang up the phone. I run to the kitchen and grab the toothpick and run back. I’m thinking about who I should call on this little phone. Pizza? No. that’s fake. That’s a fake TV thing. I could call the grocery store and see if they have any squashed fruit or vegetables they don’t want any more? So many options. I got it! I reach out to pinch the phone and shove it in my ear to make a call. Then the phone rings. It’s so small, that you would miss it if you were eight feet away. It sounds like it’s coming from three apartments over. I lean in. I probably misheard it. I probably have tinnitus like what they talk about on TV in the mornings when all the old people are watching because they’ve been up since 4am, drinking stool softener or whatever helps them to poop.

There it is again. Ringing. I pick up the receiver and say “hello?” I don’t hear a response. I had put it up to my ear like a normal phone. That’s right. I shove it back into my ear and I hear a tinny voice coming through. “Hello? hello? who is this? Deborah?” I say “no, I think you have the wrong number.” The voice goes quiet “who is this.” I say “I’m a guy talking on a tiny phone. Who is this?” “How did you get this phone?” The voice sounds upset. “I... found it. Somewhere. I forget. It was in my drawer or something.”

“I highly doubt that.” The voice says “I hope you know that I’m not an idiot. There are only two phones in the world like the one you’re holding, and I have the other one.”

”I’m not holding it” I say “I have it jammed in my ear.”

”that’s gross. How big are you?” That’s a weird question to ask someone over the phone. “About average I would say. Average big. how big are you?”

”tiny.”

”Really. How tiny?”

”I don’t know what your reference for tiny is. Name some things that you think are tiny.”

”okay.” I look around “a thumbtack, a... bacon crumb. A bug”

”how big of a bug?” the voice asks

“A mosquito. Not a dung beetle or anything. Nothing that big. A tiny mosquito.”