Residence Assignments.

Forgive me, this is a bit old.

Two names, two phone numbers. that's it. Just two names to tell me who my room mates are. How can I know from such little information? Judging a person by their first name is like judging a book by it's cover.

Cindy, a rather exotic but generic name. She could be anything. A serial killer. Really, she could be anything at all. Brenda is a bit more descriptive, more original. Just by her name she seemed less murderous. I had known both a Cindy and Brenda in high school. Both were very sweet, but these two girls could be the exact opposite.

There is other information on my residence assignment letter such as where I'm living; the quad, the house, the floor, the room, but none of that matters while those two names peer at me from their place at the bottom of the page with their ten digits. At least a last name would allow me to look them up on facebook and see if their normal.

One and a half weeks later I still haven't called them. Fear grasps me every time I see that letting sitting on my bedside table. I continually find excuses not to call, but now I must. With my heart fluttering in my chest I pick up the letter and my phone and dial the top number, Cindy's. (They could have done it alphabetically, Brenda then Cindy but no. That would be too kind to those of us with OCD.) The phone plays me some song I've never heard of until it clicks. Someone has answered! I inhale preparing to introduce myself by phone, to a stranger, when I hear a recorded voice telling me that the person I am trying to reach is unavailable and that I should leave a message or just hang up.

A message?! I get up the courage to finally call this girl and she can't be bothered to pick up the phone?! Maybe she really is out to get me! Or maybe she really was busy. I doubt it.

Perhaps Brenda will be diffrend. So I hit the green button until I hear a dial tone (yes I was using a house phone. The horror!) and call Brenda. The phone rings, my stomach flips, and I am greeted by another answering machine telling me to leave a message. Do my roommates even exist? What were the changes that neither would pick up their phones?

So, overall I have left two bumbling messages on two phones belonging to two complete strangers.

Delightful.

UPDATE!!
That was about two weeks ago. Since then I have spoken to both and they seem very sweet. Which is good, I have no way to defend myself it they do actually try to kill me.