Reduced to sludge, apparently
Attached to our landline telephone is a secret service. The phone company accepts messages, on our behalf. Stores them, out of sight and out of mind until we dial a specific code and walk through the nested menus. Of course, there’s no flashing light; just some odd beeps when you dial out to another line. This is the dawn of a modern age, and we do answer the phone if it rings (a chance to speak to that nice man from the computer company who offers to fix my virus (which he never does, but that’s a different story). Rarely do we call anyone, so the beeps never get triggered. Back to the present tale.
It turns out that people do leave us the occasional message, and we occasionally listen to them. Weeks can elapse. After working my way through the inventory (including a rather lengthy butt dial from someone walking in the woods), I finally came across a “real message”.
From months ago… we had brought in a local utility to provide a needed “take away” service. Paid the driver immediately, by personal cheque. Promptly filed the incident as completed. Went on with life.
Meanwhile, the owner of the service treated our cheque in an unorthodox manner, by running it through the laundry. Reduced the whole thing to sludge, according to the call. And the payment remained in limbo.
Happily, we have a family conscience, and the replacement cheque is already in the envelope (I didn’t say mailed, as I might go by their office, tomorrow). Just to keep this on a personal level and arrange for a receipt.
