“911 operator. What is your emergency?”
“I’ve been robbed.”
“OK. What’s your na–”
“I’ve been robbed!”
“Sir, please remain calm. I’m here to help. I need some info. OK?”
“Yes, I s’pose. I’ve been robbed.”
“Your name, please?”
“Gauger. Jeff Gauger.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No, ma’am.”
“When and where were you robbed?”
“Sometime last night. In my backyard. Robbed, I tell you!”
“You don’t know the exact time?”
“Jeez, how could I? I was in bed asleep.”
“I’m confused. Where was the robbery?”
“I was in bed. The robbery happened in my backyard.”
“Whatayamean?”
“Jeepers. This is an emergency. We’re wasting time jabbering.”
“You have to help me so I can help you. Tell me what happened.”
“I grow tomatoes. Or try to. Yesterday, my patio tomato plant’s first fruit was so, so close. I figured I’d harvest it today.”
“Right.”
“This morning, it was half gone! You’ve gotta do something.”
“What do you expect us to do?”
“Something. Anything. Someone, some varmint, chewed off the bottom half of my tomato!”
“Sir, I agree. Something – someone – is off. Goodbye.”
More tales from the garden
Stubborn meets crazy in the garden
You married a garden killer, dear
