to the tune of: Conventioneers by Barenaked Ladies
Last Sunday night I got a call at 11 PM from a mysterious deep-voiced gentleman.
"Is this Michael J. Brzozowski?"
Lucky me. I must've won the Publisher's Clearinghouse sweepstakes. Funny, I don't remember entering that. That middle initial is serious business though. Only credit card companies know that... and Stanford people. But what am I going to say? Guy already told Deep Voice I was home.
"Yes."
"I have top-secret information for you. Go to the Marguerite stop at Campus and Bowdoin." (click)
Go to a bus stop in the dark at 11 PM based solely on a phone call? Sure, why not? So I set off, my flatmates accompanying me for protection. The street corner was devoid of sketchy people in trenchcoats (and Marguerites) so we kinda stood around until Ben noticed a slip of paper taped to the bus stop sign. It was a game clue. Excellent! And so it began.
Twenty or thirty minutes later, the clues led us back home, where a throng of people had crammed themselves into my very messy room and were about to run out of oxygen when I opened the door. Surprise! Thanks everyone!
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