My phone, which I’m told is “smart”, routinely removes numbers from my address book, for no apparent reason other than spite. As such, I often get calls and texts from unrecognized numbers, so while everyone else in the world answers their phones like it’s 2015, I’m back in the early 80s going, “Oh dear me. Who could be calling at this hour?”
Yesterday, I got a text from a number I couldn’t place that just said, “Yo witch.” This narrowed the texter down to pretty much everyone I know, so I wrote “What’s up?” back, hoping that he or she would somehow identify him/herself without any embarrassing prompting on my part.
And damned if he didn’t do just that. His next text was simply a picture:
… at which point I was all, “OH, okay. Hi Veles!”
Dogs and horses can identify their masters at a distance through scent alone. I, on the other hand, can identify my friends at a distance through their individual preferences in religious iconography. Check and mate, my quadruped lessers. Check. And. Mate.