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Jay’s Literature Page
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| Last updated: 31 Jul 2005 |
(2001-2003)
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Dear Mr. Writer, Swabedor
Only a handful of people, in 1985, knew J. P. Jugro's mobile phone number--one or two friends, a couple of business associates, his girlfriend, probably--and with what few there were who knew it, even more rare were the occassions when somebody actually called him through that modern communication device. Thus, when his phone rang its factory-default, standard ring tone, one afternoon while he was in the visitor's lobby of A & A Enterprises, 24th floor of the Perniçio building, he squealed like a woman and almost had a heart attack. J. P. Jugro picked it up--actually, fished it from his right coat pocket, and pressed on the answer ) button. The year being only 1985, his mobile phone didn't yet have the caller id feature that, if it were today, would have identified for him, if the caller's number was saved in his mobile phone's electronic "phone book", the stored name of the caller. On second thought, the caller wouldn't have probably be in J. P. Jugro's mobile phone book anyway; that particular afternoon in 1985 was his first ever communication with the man who called himself Bruce Swabedor. Bruce Swabedor, by way of vocal profiling, had the voice not very much unlike someone who had drunk, for the past five years, not a drop of water, but very often on meals a vareity of very rare and dry kind of ale instead. He sounded like he was a seven-foot-tall, thin, arthritic man who was partial to an opera at least once every two weeks. The modulation of his voice gave a listener the distinct impression that he was father to a very bright seven year old girl. To those deductions one was liable to make only upon hearing this one Bruce Swabedor's voice carried over an analog wireless phone network, only one bit came close to the truth. Bruce Swabedor, as a matter of fact, was an avid water drinker. In 1985 he averaged 12.3 glasses of water a day--surely 3.3 glasses of water above the prescribed 9 ± 1 in a day. Due to this, Bruce Swabedor was quite a physically fit man, medium built, moderately muscular, and had healthy, moisture-rich skin with fair complexion. Though tall for most men of his race, age, and generation, his vertical growth stayed at the five-foot-seven-inch peek it had reached on his twenty-first year of life. In 1985, whereas J. P. Jugro was twenty-three, Bruce Swabedor was thirty-five, and surely, a father of a quite articulate, if intelligent, daughter, who, sadly for our listener who had guessed otherwise, was only five years old instead of seven. He was also a polite mobile phone conversationalist, following to the best of his abilities the prescribed etiquette concerning modern electronic communication. His conversation with J. P. Jugro went as follows:
The two gentlemen then procedeed discussing the terms of J. P. Jugro's employment. The conversation lasted no longer than ten minutes. After an agreement had been reached, J. P. Jugro approached the receptionist's desk. There a female employee held the post. She was a lovely young woman of around J. P. Jurgo's age. She was wearing the prescribed Tuesday and Friday female A & A Enterprises employee uniform, and on the left side of her chest was a shinny bronze name pin where the nick name "SHELLA" was etched. She welcomed J. P. Jugro's approach with a lovely smile--the only kind of smile she was capable of making, for she was indeed a lovely young woman. J. P. Jugro smiled as well, then asked, "Know of any opera staging on the Perniçio hall within the next three weeks?" |
| © 2005 Jay Santos |