Every time I come back to Hungary, I unlock another completely random childhood memory. If you grew up in ’90s rural Eastern Europe, you might remember this. Before most families had a landline, our housing estate had a single public phone box. As kids, our parents didn’t allow us to use the family phone cards, so we’d spend ages dialling random numbers, hoping we’d accidentally stumble across one that was free to call. If someone answered, we’d pretend we’d reached directory enquiries and ask complete nonsense. One day an actual telephone operator picked up. Little me panicked and asked: “Am I allowed to just drop dead?” Without even a pause, in the most unbothered voice imaginable, she replied: “Be my guest.” Then hung up. I’ve never recovered from the excitement I’d felt then and the efficiency of that conversation. That phone operator had clearly reached the “I’ve heard everything” stage of her career. I wonder where she might be today, bless her soul 🤣