“So, someone can theoretically send me electronic mail, and I can get it through the internet?” Sid inquisitively asks. He has vaguely remembered giving someone his e-mail address the other day. That whom in question, he remembers, he gave an electronic mail address that he does not really have to Jen, and also gave one to Carl.
“To do that you need an e-mail address, which you do, since you gave an address to Jen and I.”
“Well, I don’t really have an e-mail address. I just made that one up,” Sid responds.
“Well, if you don’t really have an email address, then why bother giving Jen and I it?” Carl asks, somewhat annoyed, but not to a degree that Sid could detect.
“Well, we were exchanging email addresses as well, I didn’t want to be left out,” Sid says, half sheepishly.
“Oh well. Hey, speaking of Jen, think we should call her, see if she heard anything from the lawyer, what’s his name?” Carl speaks care-freely.
“Yeah, sounds like a good idea to me. Maybe we can hang out and do something,” Sid suggests optimistically. At least they will have someone else to be bored with.
“I’ll call later. Here comes the waiter with the food,” Carl ends. The conversation abruptly halts there. Sid and Carl begins to gorge themselves on their breakfasts. Luckily, neither of them choke on anything that they inhale.
They finish eating, pay the tab, then leave. Back into the car they go, and drive back to Carl’s laboratory. Once inside, Carl starts looking around for that card that has all of their contact information on it. He finds it stapled to a wall by the telephone. He picks up the phone hastily and dials the number. Sid just sits down on a chair and toys around with a pen.
“Hey Jen, it’s me, Carl. You might remember me from that near fatal peanut allergy about a week ago. Sid’s here as well, were just wondering what’s happening, and if you had heard from the lawyer yet. We haven’t. When you get this message, please call us back. Later,” Carl hangs up the phone and puts it back in the receiver. “She wasn’t home, but I left a message on her machine.”
“Great,” responds Sid unenthusiastically. He stands up, and absent mindedly reaches a hand into his pocket.
“Speaking of last night,” Sid starts, “I had the strangest dream. And you were there. It was rather peculiar. Rather surreal. And there was this vampire who stood on a bridge and wouldn’t let us pass. There was more, but I think I’ve forgotten it by now.”
“Really? Then it works,” Carl mumbles to himself. Although Sid overhears him.