The Dead Space

While at Columbia Teachers College,  Marash Girl's professor gave her the phone number of the Yonkers Department of Education, encouraging her to call for an interview.  Every time Marash Girl dialed the number, she arrived in a "dead space" . . . a place where there was no sound, no sound except for other voices saying, "Hello?  Hello?"  Not one of the voices had reached the expected telephone destination --  in fact, it was almost as if the telephone company had created, unintentionally, of course, an old-fashioned party line, though none of the folks that reached that "dead space" had any idea how or why they had reached it.  But as things turned out, we all got to know each other, called into the dead space regularly, and became good telephone friends, good enough so that we decided we should meet at one of the inexpensive local restaurants.  We did.  And there was the "rub".  There is where Marash Girl met, and was romanced by the confused fellow that she wrote about in yesterday's blog.  Well, ya gotta meet guys somewhere, right?

The happy ending to the story?  Marash Girl did finally find the correct phone number for the Yonkers Department of Education, arranged for an interview, and was hired as a guidance counselor!