A Renewal of Faith

Several weeks ago, I was driving to a pub on a Friday night, scanning radio stations for some enjoyable music. Obviously, this was when my car was still running. All of the sudden, I found this great electronic music, at the upper end of the dial. I think it was 107.3 FM. The music was drum 'n base style and perfect for driving fast on the motorway. I stayed tuned in to the station the whole way. The DJ calls herself, Lady Hektik, and she said she would send anyone a free CD of her music, if one would just send a text with one's name and address. A free CD? Now she was really playing my song.
As I was driving, I typed out the text into my mobile phone. It was all ready to go, I just needed the number to send it to. Quickly she rattled through the number, but I only managed to get the first four digits. As I was driving, I couldn't write it down. I arrived at the pub, still waiting for her to repeat the number again. I noticed there were no commercial breaks on the station. Eventually, I figured out why. It was a pirate station. No, not a station that only plays old sea shanties. An unlicensed radio station, operating "illegally." I don't remember ever hearing any pirate stations, back in America. I think the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) clamps down on them rather swiftly, there. Here in Britain, it seems that the "authorities" are much less effective at stamping out such things.
I sat in the pub parking lot, with my mobile poised in my hand, waiting for Lady Hektik to give me the vital, missing numbers. At risk was me missing last call. Finally, she ran through the number again. I sent my text off into the night, then scrambled into the pub. Weeks went by and no CD arrived. I had no reply text, nor any other indication that my request had been received. Eventually, I resigned myself to the conclusion that Lady Hektik was a bit too hectic to come through with my promised, free CD. Shrugging my shoulders, I chalked the whole thing up to experience. I guess pirate radio DJs don't live up to "the code," like pirates do in "Pirates of the Caribbean."
Then one Saturday, I came downstairs in the morning to find an envelope, addressed to me, that had come through the post, sitting on the kitchen table, with the rest of the mail. Hitler's Nephew must have put the mail there before he left the house that morning. I picked up the strange envelope and noticed that "do not bend" was written on the outside. Intrigued, I opened it. I had completely forgotten about my late night text to Lady Hektik. Well shiver me timbers! To my surprise, the envelope contained my long awaited, free CD. Lady Hektik was as good as her word. I popped the CD into my DVD player and immediately began listening to it. The music wasn't quite as good as I remembered, but it was enjoyable. Besides, the price was great. Events like this renew my faith in humanity. Lady Hektik, if you're out there somewhere, respect!