Oh Lord. After an hour, she's back.
Lulled by the false sense of security that the silent phone offered, I answered without looking at caller ID.
Me: Hello?
Her: Okay. Is this *ameliabee's cell phone number*
Me: Yes.
Her, repeating it very slowly: Is this *ameliabee's cell phone number*
Me, equally slowly: Yes...It...Is.
Her: Well, I'm looking for Robin
Me, trying not to sigh audibly: I know you are. But, here is the thing--there is only one person at this number, and that is me. My name isn't Robin. I don't know anyone named Robin. Whoever Robin is, they gave you the wrong number or something. There. Is No. Robin. Here. Okay?
Her, apparently awakening from a coma: But this is *ameliabee's cell phone number* right? I mean, that is this number, right?
Me: Yes. That is my number. That is this number. The only thing missing is Robin, and I don't know where you can find him or her. Okay?
Her: Him or Her?
Me: You know Robin. The Robin who does not have this telephone number.
Her: But this is *ameliabee's cell phone number*
Me, with a sigh this time: Yes, yes it is.
Her: Fine.
And....click.
I'm thinking about calling her from my land line and asking for Robin.
Happy Labor Day 2023!
1 year ago
3 comments:
Phreaky.
My saddest mis-dialed phone story: every couple weeks, our land line answering machine picks up a call from an elderly guy with a shaky voice.
He thinks he is contacting his daughter. Sometimes he invites her to dinner and other times he wonders why she is avoiding him.
He tells her he loves her and he is sorry she stood him up for dinner again. Then he asks her to please, please call him. He says "I love you kiddo" again.
She is a bitch and never calls back. Because "she" is me and I am going apeshit not knowing his number. I have debated getting caller ID just to help this fellow out. HE IS DIALING THE WRONG NUMBER AND HAS NO CLUE. He is nice and I like him.
What would you do?
It makes me over-eat Dorritos.
Oh dear.
Could you do *69 on your phone to call him back? I suppose that would only work if nobody else had called since he did...but it is worth a shot.
The only other thing I can think of is to change your outgoing message to your names (at least your surname) Very Clearly, or maybe change it to say something like "if you are calling for Susan, you have the incorrect number. However, if you leave your name and number, we would love to help you find her?"
Okay, now that I've typed that last part it doesn't sound like such a great idea anymore. In all honesty, the compulsive helper in me would probably end up getting caller ID, just so I didn't have to cry every time this guy left a message...
Going off to over-eat Jay's potato chips with Blue Bunny French Onion Dip. And then get really, really sick, but with a smile on my face...
Mmmm.
I have been overeating "Totino's Pizza Rolls" tonight, and almost guilt-free since I did not purchase them, my daughter selected and my husband bought. They will just be wasted if I do not "waist" them, because it turns out she didn't like 'em.
The old guy makes me sad. But I hate techie toys and caller ID is one of my many lines in the sand.
Oh, but he is so old and doddery. And he has a thick East Coast (NY/NJ?) accent. What a doll.
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