Unintentional practical joke - Part 2

As I prepare to finish up this story, I realize that what I should have done was wait for a year to finish this. That's the way it happened in real life. But that's impractical - mostly because I'll forget to write the second part after that long of a wait. I forget why I've walked into a room for goodness sake!

As I left the story last time (link to previous part), my friend had moved 1500 miles away to enroll in graduate school in Colorado. In the meantime, I was still working outside Washington three months later but changes were afoot and my job was going to be moving to Mississippi. They made the mistake of sending us down there in the summer to see if we'd like to move. It was hot. It was so hot, no one came out during the day. I only saw people around at night when it wasn't quite so hot. I declined the move but I was fortunate because I worked for the US Geological Survey and they needed an electronics engineer in two other locations that didn't get as hot as Mississippi in the summer - Woods Hole, MA and Denver, CO. They would be transferring me to the Denver office for a week to see if my skills fit in with what they were doing there. I figured it would be a good chance to see my friend again.

He was very busy and was never in his apartment when I called. The arrangements were made pretty quickly and there wasn't time to write, either (this was in the 70's - no cell phone and no e-mail). So, I'd have to "pop in". I drove into town one evening and found his apartment building. You had to hit the buzzer near the individual mail slot to get in but he didn't answer the buzz. Out again. So, I figured I'd leave him a note to let him know I was in town. But writing an "I'm here and here's how to reach me" note seemed so boring. Two things went through my mind:

1) My friend always said he could tell my writing and
2) Wouldn't it be more fun to make in mysterious?

So, remembering the events from the previous post, I wrote this (or something like it - this was a long time ago):

"At last I've found you. You thought you could get away with cutting in front of me in your car in Washington. But I've tracked you down. We'll see who is laughing now."

In my strange, warped mind I just assumed he would know it was me. The next day, I called his apartment again and this time he answered. "Did you get my note?" I asked. The mixture of relief, anger and exhaustion in his voice were apparent over the phone. "I can't believe you did that", he said. "Do you know I called your apartment at 3 AM last night to see if you were home?" sounding a little more mad than relieved. "If you would have answered, I think I'd have had a heart attack," he said barely able to control himself. "How did you remember about the car, anyway?" he finished.

He had been up most of the night worrying. My not answering when he called my apartment in Virginia didn't necessarily mean I'd traveled to Denver and slipped an ill-advised, idiotic, threatening note into his mailbox. He didn't know for sure until I called the next day. But I'd been right about one thing - he was pretty sure he recognized my writing.