One can just hear the guffaws
of the actuarily deprived, at
the sight of this antiquarian
call box, stuffed full with a
single listener, not a speak-
er button to be found. On the
other hand the luxuriant sup-
ply of cord permits a grovel-
ling on the paving for spills
of coins and pencils and oth-
er accessories of documenting
a purchased conversation. The
closest call of this type I'm
aware of, this week, was that
escape from lunch at the Ex-
active Mansion to work a deal
to bail its tenant out. Wrong
way to exit that predicament;
on the other hand, nice save.
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