Psycho baby-blabber on cell
Here's an interesting story from Gladys.
Yesterday, my co-worker and I were making our customary trip homeward from the Foster stop in Evanston. We sat down in front of a perfectly unassuming-looking mid-20's woman with a book, a cellphone, and a basket of flowers.
My friend and I were in the midst of an animated conversation when suddenly from behind us came The Voice That Only Dogs Can Hear, a voice that totally derailed our collective train of thought. I broke off in mid-sentence and started giggling silently--it was just so incongruous.
It seriously sounded as though this girl had sucked major helium before she dialled the phone. In the most revolting baby-talk imaginable, The Voice said, "I just wanted to say fank oo for the fwowers. I was a widdle bit of a basket case."
She continued in this vein for a few sentences, all sugar-squeaky and faux-adorable. And then things got ugly. Her whole tone of voice changed as she proceeded to narrate some perceived slight at work that day.
"And I said 'You aren't listening to me, and you never HAVE listened to me, and now...'" Her voice dropped an octave and a half from when she'd begun, and it had taken on an edge of shrewish bitchery that was totally absent from the baby-talking portion of the conversation.
To my friend I said, "The helium wore off, I guess." We had tried to continue our conversation, really we had, but every time we glanced at each other, one or the other of us would crack up.)
She went on like that til after my friend (still laughing) got off at Howard, and rode silently to Belmont with her book, her cellphone, her fwowers, and--I assume--her hidden tank of helium.
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