WHATS MY NAME AGAIN?

As the last passengers walked by, happily to have flown across the Atlantic Ocean without incident and land in the country of Maple Syrup and Ice hockey, the only people left in the arrivals lounge were me and my friend. We were waiting for our mutual friend who had worked with us the previous summer at the Peligoni sailing club, on the Greek island of Zakynthos.

I then get a phone call on my mobile, a voice void of emotion, asking me to go and answer a grey phone, found hanging on a wall at t...