The antique rotary phone rang with a blaring ring that was loud enough to wake the dead. Of course she bolted out of bed and reached for the receiver before another deafening brring could escape the damned machine. A muffled “hello” was muttered into the mouthpiece as she fell back into the pillows.
God, why did Sears need to call to remind her that the repair was tomorrow? Couldn’t the automated machine have called later? And who in their right mind would want to have this phone by their bed? It should be installed in a padded room where the sound would be slightly muffled.
No, she was not a morning person, and ringing phones did not help matters.
Rotary phones…. so much fun. I happen to have one by my bed to try it out. The above is a semi-autobiographical incident from this morning. Okay, fine, you got me. It did happen, and it did not help that I had an antihistamine drugging up my system.