Boo-ah came up to the room and told us that we had a phone call. I trudged down the twenty-four steps to the land line (don't ask me why we don't have a phone in the room), but there was no-one there. The phone rang again, and someone spoke in a language that I didn't recognize. It wasn't Thai or French, and it certainly wasn't English. I think it was a European language, although I'm not certain.
After two or three minutes of trying to communicate with the person on the other end that it was a wrong number, I finally hung up. The person called back again, same scenario. She called back yet again. By this time I am pretty annoyed because we clearly have no language in common. I think that she might have been calling for the people who lived here before us, over fourteen months ago, but I'm not sure. Maybe she was trying to order take out Thai in Vienna and had a wrong number.
I was also annoyed by her tone, as she seemed to take offense that I didn't speak her language. I was thinking, "look lady, you called me". I mean, if she was speaking Thai, maybe she would have some grounds to be annoyed that someone answering a phone in Thailand didn't speak Thai. Of course if she spoke Thai, I could have had the nanny or even Nalin speak to her.
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