After the weeds were given over a month to establish extremely intricate root systems, attract a bunch of bees and develop very bad tempers, the Community Garden Powers That Be had my building manager call me and tell me there was a plot available.
"Hello?"
"Hi, is this Liz.?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Ok, well tell her that she should call me, because she has gotten off the waiting list for a garden plot."
"Oh, I have, that's awesome!"
"Ten."
"What?"
"You asked which plot. It's plot ten."
"Ummm... thank you."
"Make sure to tell her. Have a nice day."
"I'm Liz!"
Click.
My building manager is a little hard of hearing. In her defense, she also called me on my cell phone which at that time was 250 million years old, give or take. I borrowed it from a trilobite, right before they went extinct.
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