A guy that I met in Argentina called me two nights ago. He was in BA with a big group of friends and had just graduated from NYU’s business grad program (Stern, I think?) and the girls and I ended up hanging out with the lot of them all night (funny how Americans in foreign countries always form an instant bond regardless of whether or not they would ever have anything in common or hang out on home turf). At the end of the night, I gave this guy our hotel room number and my cell number so that we could compare plans for the next night. He called the room and left a message the next day, but plans and other distractions prevented me from returning the call.
Now, three full weeks later, I get this voicemail: Hi Carol, it’s [redacted]. I just got back from my South America trip a day ago and somehow your number stayed with me and made it all the way back to NY. Just calling to say hi—call me when you get a chance.
I thought that was pretty sweet. I’ll probably call back at some point this weekend.
