Hang ups.

Strange. When I last answered a call on the switchboard it sounded like a hang-up, but whoever it was didn’t really hang up on me because the line wasn’t dead. I waited. It started to ring. A man answered, and not knowing what else to say, I told him it was the bookstore. He hung up.

Also: Helmet Comb-over has returned. I still can't get over his disastrous attempt to cover his bald spot.

-Lima Bean