121000-0540 GMT
The comm link chirped.
Wuggles answered, "Hello? ... Who's calling ... It's for you."
"Who is it?"
"Tiffany."
"TIFFANY?!? I don't know anyone named 'Tiffany!" (It had been only 25 hrs. since Mo'Reese's phone call telling me to "Check your e-mail." Well, better take it anyway, wrong number? crank call? ... vendetta? ... could be any of them ... down at the bottom of the probability list was ... lost data bits? -- That, indeed, there was someone out there named "Tiffany" -- and that, indeed, we had met someplace/sometime, that for some reason/somehow I had given her my phone number and that I had totally and completely lost it! Damned virus!!).
"Hello?"
"Hello, Fish?" came the syrupy-sweet female voice at the other end.
"Yes."
"This is Tiffany."
"Tiffany?"
"Remember, me?"
(My mind raced as only a sick mind in the middle of the nite can -- at a download rate of approx. 300 bps with an upload rate of approx. 10 bps. and with a response rate of approx. 2 minutes. "Tiffany. Tiffany! Tiffany??" This was far toooo much for the mind to try to process at this time of the nite under the *best* of circumstances -- let alone this!! This, *THIS* was merely adding insult to injury.)
"I'm sorry."
"We met at the Mall ... about 2 weeks ago."
(I tried -- unsuccessfully -- to add these bits of data to the bitstream now screaming through my head, "Tiffany? ... Mall? ... Two weeks ago?" The mind boggled. 'There are no items to show in this view.' Two weeks ago was the weekend after Turkey Day, when Esteban performed his annual trick of blowing up the turkey. The malls would have been jammed with holiday shoppers. I'm *NOT QUITE* that far gone yet. No way I would have been around a mall two weeks ago.)
"Mall? ... 2 weeks ago? ... I'm sorry, can you call me back tomorrow?"
"You gave me your comm-link. Remember? I could come over there."
("Come over *HERE*????" I didn't know much, but I did know this; this was *NOT* something I particularly wanted to pursue in the middle of the nite! This was starting to get altogether toooo strange. "Fish? I said to myself. "You're definitely going to have to stop launching just prior to B-5!!" )
"Now? ... UuuuHhhh ... No."
"I could come over tomorrow."
(For some reason that I couldn't quite put my finger on, this sounded like an equally baaaaaad idea.)
"Listen, I'm asleep. I can't think straight right now. Please give me a ring tomorrow."
"I'm sorry. That's okay. You live at ********?"
(Whaoa!) "Yes."
"I could come over tomorrow."
"Look! Just give me a ring tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay."
I was left in the darkness to once again ponder the imponderable ("Bwain? Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"), to sort out options, to try to make sense of this, ... and Mo'Reese's call. What did it all mean? Were they connected? Was this actually happening? Of course, there was always Florida to use as a "measuring stick". Indeed, given that, there was the very distinct possibility that this *WAS*, indeed happening to me. But, then again, it could be just another special forces sneak-attack by ...