10pm. Sunday night.
My cell phone rings. The glowing screen reveals a local number than I'm not familiar with. Normally, I would have muted the phone and turned my attention back to the magazine I was reading. But for some reason, I answered it.
Immediately I regretted my decision. It sounded like the call was coming from inside a washing machine; a loud whirr was all I could make out. And then, before I was able to hang up, a tiny voice from far away said my name.
Turns out, it was a coworker calling from Jacksonville, where he is broadcasting all week. He was calling from a bar. The same exact bar, as luck would have it, at which half of the Eagles had chosen to spend their Sunday night.
"If I get Donovan on the phone, will you talk to him?" He poses the question and my jaw drops.
The next thing I know, my coworker is calling Donovan's name. And Donovan is answering.
"Donovan..."
"Yeah, man."
"Hey, I'm from Dallas...my friend is from Philly and she's a huge Eagles fan. Will you say hi to her?"
"Hi Meredith!"
At that point, Donovan started laughing, told my friend that he doesn't "do phone interviews," and handed the phone back to him.
Here's the part of the story where I tell you that I played it completely cool, hung up the phone, and fell right asleep, not at all distracted by the giddy excitement resulting from hearing Donovan McNabb say my name.
But none of you are gullible enough to believe that.
Comments:
Post a Comment
