Life Imitates Art

Some of my friends have been asking for more personal posts: here ya go.

I got a prank call at work today; some girl who may have been drunk called while I was away from my desk. She left her name and number, silly thing, and said she needed help with her "power plant", giggling all the while (I work for Fisher Scientific, so I imagine she found this amusing and decided to call).

So of course I call back.

I get some other girl, and ask to speak with the caller (I'll get to her name later). I hear some kind of exchange, and she asks who's calling, so I say Peter, from Fisher Scientific (I should have said "To discuss her power plant problems" but only thought of it afterwards).

Pause.

>click<


Chicken! =)


Anyway here are the weird (weirder?) bits:

1) She said her name was Anastasia. This is the same name as a girl who works around the corner at a framing place, who I had a silly little crush on a while ago. For the life of me I can't remember if I ever gave her my work number. Probably not. Anyway, how many Anastasia's can there be around here?
2) I do a reverse-directory search on the phone number, and find that (here comes a mouthful) she is the immediate neighbour of the person that babysat my mom's dog last week. Anastasia's in unit 'D', the babysitter was in unit 'E'. I went there briefly to drop off some dog food.
3) The kicker: I watched "I *heart* Huckabees" last night. For those who haven't seen it, the starting point for the movie is that the main character goes to existential detectives to help him sort out the meaning of three coincidences (wackiness ensues -- great flick).

So, what now? As far as I know, existential detectives do not exist. There's a philosophy joke there, but I can't quite make it out.