October 11, 2015

We walked into our new house and I asked my dad what floor we would be staying at. “The sixth” he replied. “On which [floor] are we getting married?” I further inquired. “Not here” was the response. I reasoned that I must be living on the fifth floor with the knowledge that my bedroom would be a floor below my parents’. “How many floors are there?” I asked again - and then additionally asked in the kitchen below ground floor counted as the first floor or the basement.

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The was some kind of ransom going on in the building but we managed to fumble our way through the halls into the room where all the action was happening. The kidnappers then figured that they got the wrong person as we were civilians and must not be related to whatever it was that they were pursuing.