Ted (merovingian) wrote,

Why we love email

A knock on my door, way, way too early in the morning.

"Hello," said the tape recorder, playing at the foot of the doorstep, as I opened the door. "I am the Ambassador from the Nation of Kelp."

"You're just a tape recorder!" I protested groggily.

"Yes, but I was carefully recorded in response to what you say, to form a dialogue," said the calm, smooth voice on the tape.

"What if I say something unexpected?" I asked.

"You won't."

"Okay. Well, what can I do for you?" I asked.

"I have a list of demands. Would you like to hear them?"

"Actually, I'm really tired," I said, "I'm going back to bed."

"Certainly, and you can record your responses at the end of the tape, and mail them back to the Nation of Kelp."

"Right. Looks like you didn't account for my sleepiness, Ambassador. Well, goodnight."

As I was closing the door, I heard the tape recorder play, "First, we demand sixty-five metric tons of brine shrimp, trained in the art of..."

I slept very well for several hours, and I dreamt that I was the number 15. When I woke up, someone had stolen the tape recorder or something.

The moral of the story is that communication is more difficult than monologue, no matter how cleverly you plan things.
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