Number, Please

When I was growing up in the 1940’s, the voices of the operators were voices familiar to everyone especially if you lived in a small town like mine. Our phone number was 307-R; we were on a party line with the Trammels whose number was 307-M. It was possible to pick up the phone at the same time as the family on your party line and hear each other. Politeness dictated that you hang up if the other party was already talking when you tried to use the phone. My Aunt Myrtle’s phone number was 325-W. One of the operators was my cousin, Suzanne. I didn’t always recognize Suzanne’s voice right away, but she evidently could recognize mine easily. I might give her the Aunt Myrtle’s 325-W number but, instead of hearing it ring, she might say, “Tommy, Myrtle’s at the beauty parlor.” I’ll call you when she gets back home.” Those were the days.

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About bobosbest

I am a 79-year-old retired English teacher whose writing goals are fulfilled by publishing these blogs. I have a wonderful married partner, Dimitris Tsitsiras, who is from Greece. Life is good and still an adventure.
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