. second?”The voice alternated between normal speech, grainy radio signals, and loudspeaker distortions. Phil rubbed his ear, trying to clear whatev...r obstructed his hearing.“This work do? Sorry, is this working?”Phil stopped turning, instead glancing straight up into the partially overcast sky. “Yes, but who are you? What is this about?”“One ... moment. Still pro ... processing. Okay, we achieve parity. Sorry, but we not mast ... er technology.”“What technology? Who are you? Where are you?“For. When Deborah Green, then a freshly minted physician, traveled to Berlin as part of a public service obligation, she made her way to Hamburg on BEA, then on to West Berlin via TWA, where inclement weather grounded traffic just after they landed. Waiting for her luggage, she struck up a conversation with one of the flight crew, a tall young man who appeared distracted, and very, very tired. They hit it off, rode into the city to his hotel, a new place on the Ku-dam where they had dinner. She was. So I checked to see what he had and found two picturesof full-figured women like my wife. One was suggesting that she wasgoing to turn her husband into a rubber maid and make him serve her andher lover. That idea hit me right where I live, by which I mean it gotme aroused. The other featured a redhead whose hair reached to herwaist, and her husband who was already in a rubber maid's outfit. Shewas saying that she liked him so much that way, she was consideringmaking that his regular role. . Gosh she loved voicemails. The voicemails that beep at the end of a 3 minute rant disconnecting you without the option of editing your message. Or better yet what about the voicemail that allows you to talk and talk and talk. If you are her you will utilize all of that time and fill it with as much profane, dark humored, inappropriateness as possible or you could use it as a plea to forgive unruly behavior- the latter would be most likely true in a case like this. He never really answers his.