I opened my front door today and saw a telephone book laying in front of my door. It was inside a plastic sleeve, so I know it wasn’t dropped there accidentally, by some random passerby who just happened to be carrying a telephone book in a plastic bag and got tired.
Telephone books seem to have gone the way of the landline telephone, the answering machine, and snail mail that includes a Thank You note for the gift I sent a relative a year ago.
(The typing monitor asked if I meant ‘landmine.’ I hope not, typing monitor. I hope not.)