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So, my phone rings...
My cellphone rings. There are only three people on the planet that ever call me on my cell during the workday, and I know all their numbers. This morning, I didn't recognize the number. I pick up.
"This is William."
"Oh." Pause. A woman's voice. "Not Charlie, I guess."
"Not today, no."
"Sorry. Wrong number."
"Right-o."
Click. Next time, things'll be a little different.
I pick up.
"0895, receiving encrypted. Go ahead on green."
"Oh." Pause. A woman's voice. "Not Charlie, I guess."
Pause. In a tight, tense voice: "Holy shit, somebody got through. MIKE! Take two men, lock the signal, go find her, take care of it!!!"
Click.
Soon. Yes, very soon.
"This is William."
"Oh." Pause. A woman's voice. "Not Charlie, I guess."
"Not today, no."
"Sorry. Wrong number."
"Right-o."
Click. Next time, things'll be a little different.
I pick up.
"0895, receiving encrypted. Go ahead on green."
"Oh." Pause. A woman's voice. "Not Charlie, I guess."
Pause. In a tight, tense voice: "Holy shit, somebody got through. MIKE! Take two men, lock the signal, go find her, take care of it!!!"
Click.
Soon. Yes, very soon.
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Our home phone number used to be one digit off from the Independence College of Cosmetology. Every Saturday morning between 9:20 and 9:30, caller i.d. would announce a caller named "M. Bruchard". I would answer, "Morris residence," which I do since my last name is "Morris." She would always reply, "Yes, I'd like to make an appointment to get my hair done." I would always correct her, "Ma'am, you've reached a private residence." She would always stammer, "Oh, dear," and hang up.
Six weeks this went on. SIX! Consecutively!
Finally, I took her appointment. "Yes, ma'am. Who do you usually see? Oh yes, she's very good. Okay, then, we have you down for 3:30 for Jane. Thanks so much. See you then."
Strange. She never called us again.
Funny!
Re: Funny!
"Hello. Is Bob there?"
"I'm sorry, haven't you heard? Bob passed last Tuesday. The service was lovely, though."
Re: Funny!
In the grand tradition of British kids being interviewed on the radio ("And where is your mommy?" "Oh, she's been blown to bits.") I answered, "Oh, yeah, he died."
Silence for almost a full minute. I don't even remember her response, but the phone call ended shortly thereafter. And I mowed her lawn for three more years after that.
Re: Funny!
Re: Funny!
Re: Funny!
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Quite a few people have been assured that we DO carry the item they were looking for, and that it is in fact on sale for 80% off today.
It wasn't all bad...
When I lived with R. our phone number was one digit off from a local trucking firm. Of course, we answered, "Renner residence" that being his last name. Truckers would call in, especially on Mondays, for new assignments. We both spent quite a bit of time, trying to assure these truckers that they did not, in fact, have the assignment operator. This went on for almost a year.
We both got very, very tired of dealing with the "fat-fingered fucks", as R. called them, and began giving them random assignments, complete with designated loads and pick-up times to local companies whose names we picked out of the phone book. It became quite a game with us as to who could come up with the best assignment.
Funny, the calls tapered off and then stopped completely.
Re: It wasn't all bad...
Re: It wasn't all bad...
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Gareth used to answer calls with unidentified numbers by asking "Hi, is Bob there?" when he picked up the phone. The silence on the other end of the line was priceless.
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*hehehe*
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...and the [expletive] phone rang again! "By golly, I'll fix their wagon," I thought to myself as I stomped back to the phone, and pulled a sentence out of my memory of the Dutch by Radio series I'd recently listened to on Radio Nederland. I answered the phone.
"Met mevrouw van den Berg," I said. ("This is Mrs. van den Berg.") The caller mumbled something and hung up.
So much for that, I thought...until I found out later that it was a relative. Oops.
I've now lived for not quite twenty years with a phone number that is one digit off from that of an insurance agency, a doctor's office, and a pizza place. The only times it's been really frustrating is when the insurance agency sent out post cards to all their customers... with our phone number... and one afternoon long ago when an old woman wanted to know about her car that had been in a wreck, and no matter how many times I told her she had a wrong number still wanted to know about her car! I came within epsilon of telling her "I'm sorry, your car's a total loss, and you won't be getting any money from us," but resisted temptation, and I think I had to just hang up on her in the end.
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Well, all I can say is that you're a nicer person that I am!
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Oh, I have *got* to remember that one...
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Problem was, what do you do if you're making a call from Dublin, through a PABX, to the Netherlands?
9 for an outside line, 00 for international code, 31 for .nl...you can see what happened next, right?
Eventually our entire area code got an additional number in front of the "9", and life got a little less international.
[falls off chair]
Hope life is good for you.