So I was at home, having finished dinner, fed the cat, and washed the three dishes needed for pizza (plate, glass, and knife for cutting the pizza where two pieces still clung together when the phone rang.
"Hello."
"Mr. Washington."
The voice sounded young.  A student?  "Yes. . . ."
"We weren't sure you were gonna be home."
Philly, my cat, stopped purring.  I began scratching her chin again.  "Well, I am home--"
"Good."
"--and I was getting ready to read."  Actually, until that moment I had been contemplating picking up the remote.  "Say, how did you get my number."
"You don't want to know."