One thing Jeff said Monday:
When the work at hand pertains to the lady fans (Hello, Ladies!) in reality it ceases to become an "investigation" and, instead, morphs into a pleasurable task. All part of being an Unbelievable, you understand. (Just wanted to clear that up in case there was any confusion.)
Anyway, the matter of the moment ...
"Can I see that card?" Jeff asked Clark as he walked back toward us from the fence line. Clark handed him the proffered post and scanned it with interest. "Dibs on the paisley printed lass!" he exclaimed.
I snatched the piece out of his hand and looked at it. "Oooooooooooh ... pockets!" I noted cooingly. "Clark, the pageboy-haircutted, begloved gal looks right up your alley, don't you think?"
"Guys, guys, guys" Clark huffed. "Don't you think you're getting ahead of yourselves? We don't even know who these dames are ... if indeed they ARE women. Some digging needs to be done. But ... yeah ... if there's a date to be worked out of this situation, I'm partial to Pageboy!"
All of us cracked another beer open and retired to the Unbelieva-Base to do some research and see what we could see about who these lovely, mysterious fans might be.
We were in the midst of coming up with ideas about what we could do if the situation turned into an actual date when the phone rang.
"Make no further contact with the mysterious ladies who came by earlier this evening" a voice commanded at us over the speakerphone. A click of disconnection ended the call.
Jeff stated out loud what all of us were thinking: "Well that was dumb. Everyone and his brother knows we have counter-intelligence measures planted on the phone lines ..."
At the flick of a button, we discovered the source of the call which, we admit, raised our eyebrows ...