Resident: There was something I meant to tell you, but I forget what it was.
I assume she has some sort of complaint, like a burned out lightbulb or a typo in the newsletter (it's been that sort of day).
She calls the office about an hour later:
Resident: Two antennas meet on a roof and fall in love. They decide to get married. The wedding ceremony wasn't much, but reception was exceptional. Happy 4th of July! Good night!
Resident hangs up as I crack up.
