August 9, 2010 § 1 Comment
Over the weekend, I called the Roommates individually to see how each girl was doing. Cheng was the only girl I couldn’t call because I had the wrong number. When I got the correct number from Diana, who is currently still living with Cheng, I tried calling Cheng but I got her voicemail so I left a message. Apparently she was taking a nap because she ate one too many onion rings and lost the battle against food coma. This is the email I received from Cheng when she woke up:
The transcription is hilariously inaccurate because it failed to include that I wasn’t suicidal and dying. And, as far as suicide notes go, this one is really pathetic– not pathetic in a sad way, just pathetic in a “huh, that’s it?” way.
What I actually said, which really isn’t much of an improvement except that I clearly state that I am NOT dying:
Hey Cheng, it’s me, Jenny. I just wanted to call and say, “Hi” and see how you’re doing…And, erm, okay, so for the past like three months, or maybe… more, actually, I didn’t have the right phone number, and I had to get this [number] from Diana. So please call me back so I can make sure that this is actually the right number to call you in case, you know, I’m dying and I’ve already called 911 and I just want to say, “Good-bye”. I’m not dying by the way. Just, you know, if in that certain situation. Okay, bye.