This same thing once happened to me—only in my case, the phone was half a meatball sandwich, and the strange behavior that seemed to mimic predictable electronic functionality was forty-eight hours of light vomiting and the inability, to this day, to keep down anything that’s been simmering in an oregano-heavy tomato paste.
I’m not real fond of soggy rolls, either.
Is this a marjoram call back? Nice one.
The phone was a meatball sandwich? Man ya gotta love American marketing. You wouldn’t be able to eat it though, cuz then you wouldn’t have a phone anymore.
And every time you answered the phone, you’d get tomato sauce in your ear.
Because oregano is just wild marjoram. And a lot stronger, which could partially explain your malaise…
It’s all about the reprise, Scott…