As a heavy winter storm fell upon the college I was attending, my friend Dayle and a few others were trapped in the art studios for the night. Either being rather lucky, or well prepared, she had a change of clothes for the next day. As I walked into the studio early that morning, Dayle excused herself to go catch and early nap before classes. Not long after I got into my work, a phone began to ring. Following the sound, I eventually found the ringing cell in the front pocket of Dayle's jeans, left on her studio table. I am still not sure what possessed me to answer the phone at all, but I picked up the shrilling, vibrating device, hit the answer button and said, "Dayle's pants, she's not in them right now, can I take a message?" It was her mother. To be honest I was a little shocked by the laughter on the other end.
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