Drunk dialing

Drunk dialing.

It's something many of us are guilty of, but it's much more fun to be on the receiving end of such a call than it is to wake up hung over (the next afternoon) realizing you racked up $200 worth of international phone calls in the wee hours of the previous morning.

I awoke to the sound of my phone ringing this morning. It was Tonto calling at 2 am his time from his father's mobile.

"Buenas dias, senorita!"

I'm not sure exactly how much it costs for a ten minute mobile-to-mobile call from Mexico to Sweden, but I'm guessing it probably would cover the cost of a train ticket from Lund to Stockholm.

For Tonto's sake, I'm going to pretend it was la cerveza and la tequila talking. I'm also leaving out several of the not-PG-rated things he said to me, both for his sake and for mine. It was highly amusing, but I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who remembers the conversation, at least the part of it that may any sense whatsoever.

"You're going to hate me, aren't you?"

"No, but I might blog you."

I believe there was also a marriage proposal somewhere in there as well. I don't believe, however, that I gave him an affirmative answer, although he might think otherwise, as the the tequila seemed to be making him hallucinate.

¡Dios mio!