I was downstairs getting a drink at the water fountain when the flower lady came around the corner.
“Excuse me,” she said in a strident flower lady voice. “What’s the address here?”
I shruged and laughed a little. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know. Can I help you find someone?”
“Well, I’m looking for ‘Desnch… Lench… I don’t really know, but I thought maybe you could help,” she said, shaking her boquet-laden vase at me, coming dangerously close to soaking the carpet. “After all, the sign says ‘Information.'”
“Ma’am,” I replied, biting the corners of my mouth to hide my grin, “This is information technology. Maybe the campus post office can help you out.”