Checkin' me out. My brain, I mean.

I was sitting in my cube pretending to work when Angel poked her head in. Angel was on her shift on the info hotline, and was a little unsure of herself being she was an MBA candidate rather than an MLS. Plus, it was the first week of rolling out our new info hotline.

"Where's Madison?"

"In his grave, I hope," I said, putting down my outdated copy of Statistical Abstracts of the United States (yes I really DO read it for the hell of it, but anyway.)

"No, Madison, Wisconsin. This guy called the hotline and asked so I put him on hold. I think he's testing us or something."

I picked up the call while she listened in; I pretended I was her.

"Sorry about that interruption. Madison is in Wisconsin on I90, I'd say midway between LaCrosse and Milwaukee."

"But where IS it?" they guy asked.

"Southern Wisconsin in the middle of the state, but then again YOU KNOW THAT since that's where you are right now."

There was stunned silence.

"How did you know that?"

"I can see your area code, you know. We don't mind these tests like your office has been lobbing at us, but could you throw something our way that might actually make the company some money? I mean--we answer real questions, too."

"How do you know this stuff, anyway?"

"I just do. By the way, you have something stuck in your teeth."

"Wha?"

"Just kidding. Dilbert joke. Call us when you actually need to know something."

"Um. Okay."

You know what? He did.