Me: I accidentally dialed 911 from my office today.
Kate: Oh no! Was it the 911 button or you dialed it?
Me: No button! A purposeful dial.
Kate: What happened?
Me: I'm thinking that, 1) I dialed 9 to call out, hit the 1, thought I didn't and then hit it again, and then the call I was trying to make didn't go through because of the extra 1 and I hung up, or 2) it was a thinly-veiled cry for help. In any case, this is how my place of employment deals with it. Over the loudspeaker: "Would Red McRederson please call the main office?" Hello, maybe I'm bleeding.
Kate: Oh my God, what if you were there collapsed in a heap and you COULDN'T CALL THE MAIN OFFICE on account of the no-breathing?
Me: I called the receptionist and she said, "Red, are you okay?" and I said, "Yes, why?" and she said, "Because you called 911," and I said, "No way! Well, everything's fine." Meanwhile that's what I HAVE to say because the kidnapper has an AK-47 to my throat. Wait, is an AK-47 a gun or a plane?
Kate: A 747 is a plane.
Me: One time I saw this Lifetime movie where they set it up early that the mom was lactose intolerant, right? They had her son offer her some of his milk and she said, "Honey, you know mommy can't drink milk." So you know this is coming into play later. So then her ex-boyfriend is stalking her, and in the final scene he's got her in the kitchen with a gun to her head and her husband calls downstairs to see if she's okay. She says, "I'm fine, just getting a glass of milk." Stalker thinks everything is fine, but a few minutes later, BAM! Knocked down by the husband, because he KNOWS BETTER!
Kate: Niiiiiiice. Can you imagine what it's like to live with a person so paranoid that they actually figure out that code?
Me: My plan is that if I'm ever in that situation, I will reply that I'm getting a bowl of potatoes covered in cheese and a cup of coffee. And a banana.
Kate: And I'll come a-runnin' with a frying pan to do some whackin'.
Me: But you know whoever I say it to will be like, "That's a weird craving," and go back to sleep.
Kate: I'll be like, ''Oh my God, Red got knocked up."
Me: With my luck I'd be like, "That's okay, I'm just getting a glass of [accidentally insert ex-boyfriend's name here]" and then everyone in my house is shot to death. My movie title would be An Unfortunately Timed Freudian Slip: The Red McRederson Story.
Kate: Lifetime movies are the best.
Me: What will your code be so I know if I should take out your kidnapper? "I'm just looking for my Red Sox hat"?
Kate: "Can't talk! Eating a big juicy steak!"
Me: I'm glad we have a plan.
Kate: It's good to think ahead.