I get a new cellphone and the previous owner was a lady who was in trouble. I got a call from Bob, of Bob’s Bail Bonds, asking for Cindy. I told him it was a wrong number.
About two weeks later, I got a voicemail which went something like this:
This is from memory, so it’s a bit fuzzy; I should’ve saved it. I enjoyed playing it for co-workers just so I could see their eyes light up with mirth at the “again” 
“Hey, Ray? This is Trent. I’s just callin’ to tell you Bill died today…we’re all real sad. But anyway, the viewin’s tomorrow night at seven, at (Funeral Home X), and the funeral’ll be Friday at two at (Church Y). I’ll talk to you later, all right?” click
I have done my best to replicate the gentleman’s accent, which can only be described as ‘backwoods’. I am female, as is my roommate, and our names (which are nothing like ‘Ray’, nor does either of us know a Ray) are mentioned in our voicemail recording.
I never get odd voicemail messages, although we often come home to 4 or 5 attempts by a fax machine to connect to our number. Nothing quite like checking messages and having it start to beep and growl into your ear.
Yesterday, someone called for Olga. It was very odd. I told him he had a wrong number and he said, very carefully,. “I. apologise.” and then hung up.
Twice now we have gotten called from the lobby (the door buzzer works though the phone) at 11pm or later by a bunch of teenagers looking for Joel. My name (female) is on the display (even though we asked for my SO’s name to be put there), and I very much doubt that my last name is the same as this Joel’s, since it’s uncommon.
My parents have been living in the same house and have had the same phone number for about 11 years. We STILL get calls for Isabelle, who I presume had the number before us. Either that, or there is an easy switch of numbers between hers and ours. Some people refuse to believe that she doesn’t live there anymore, and one nearly started an argument with my mom over it.
Sounds like she was just a very nice and polite person. I know my curiosity sometimes bothers me if the machine is full of clicks, but no messages. I want to know who called, even if it was no one important.
Sounds like something out of a horror movie. The modern equivalent of getting a phone call from a stranger in the house. :eek:
Here at my grandfather’s, now and then we get calls from teenagers asking for some other teenage boy. (I can’t remember his name. Let’s call him “Danny”). Most of the time, it’s the usual “wrong number”/“sorry” thing.
One time, however, a teenage girl called up and assumed that I was the guy she was calling for. I told her she must have the wrong number, but she didn’t believe me. She thought I was the guy, and that I was joking around with her.
I said, “No, I’m not Danny. But I can pretend to be Danny if you want me too.” I asked her her name. She told me. I asked her how she is and what’s new. Eventually she accepted that I wasn’t Danny, and the conversation ended.
Anyhoo…
I used to get calls all the time for people wanting hot-air balloon rides from Dave. The had the right number, so I can only assume Dave and his balloons had that number before I did.
I also once got a message on my machine from what sounded like a very sad old man. He said something like, “Alice, this is Grandpa. I’m all alone here and I really need someone to talk to me. Please call me back.” 
Poor old guy. That message damn near broke my heart, so I called him but his phone was busy. I assumed this meant that he finally got someone on the phone to talk to him, so then I felt better.
I’ve had a few messages, both at work and at home, like the ones mentioned above: the rant, the distraught person, the drunk (one of whom agreed to try again, and must have just hit the redial, he was so quick), but the best wrong number was the persistent fax machine.
Starting one afternoon, calls would come in at irregular intervals to my individual number at work with nothing but fax noises. The display showed the calling number, but of course calling that back would only get me the fax, so I called Information. The operator was perfectly pleasant, but could only tell me what building the number was in - the Law Courts. Figuring that fax might be important to somebody, I dug out the phone book, and found about a page and a half of listings for the courthouse. Their switchboard operator was equally pleasant and equally unhelpful, so I started calling the individual departments whenever I had a little time. I finally found my faxer on the morning of the third day. She apologised vigourously, I complimented her on her persistence, and we parted good friends.
No, no, no! It still doesn’t work.
Several years ago, my ex-husband and I had several messages on our machine within a couple of days from a woman asking for Michael. We shrugged it off, as we hadn’t had the number very long. Then she called when we were actually home…
She asked for Michael again, and I told her she had the wrong number. She asked if it was the [my ex’s name] residence, so I told her, yep, sure is, but no Michael here.
“This is his wife,” she replied, “and he told me he was driving down there to visit [ex’s name] for the weekend. Please have him call me when he gets in.”
I handed the phone over to my then-husband, with a quick explanation. Turns out, he didn’t know any Michael, but some guy had told his wife he was coming to visit us for a few days and given her a full name, address and phone number! All we could guess was the guy had a girlfriend in our town, and had picked a random name out of the phone book to use as an alibi for his wife.
My ex politely told her he had never heard of her husband, and the poor woman seemed so confused.
Evidently, my phone number is very similar to the of a banks. So around tax time I get one or two calls weekly on my voice mail about persnal loeans, RRSP contributions etc.
What absolutely amazes me (considering my voice give my first name doesn’t mention a financial instituion of any kind) is that people leave me really detailed account information. Full name, acount number and loan number, balance, and phone number - enough for someone adept at fraud to have plenty run with.
I got three calls from a hairstylist in Alaska who was doing the hair of a client whose regular hairdresser is here. It was something about the colour lot numbers not being right and she wanted to be sure to mix the dye properly. After the third call message, I called back. Her colleague was nice.
I once had a message from some guy calling his “honey” to find out what she wanted him to pick up for dinner. I guess I could sound like his wife, but I do the “you have reached 555-5555, please leave a message”.
About every 2-3 months we’ll get a message from someone trying to order parts for their telescope. 
I caught one of them calling and asked where they got the number. Apparently it’s off someone’s web site, but they couldn’t give me the URL so I could check it out.
:o I apologize… I swear it worked at least once after I posted it.
This should do it.
Where’s the smack smilie when you need it…
It DOES work, you just have to right click on it then save. A regular left click sends you to errorland. If for some reason this one stops working I’m e-mailing it to someone that knows what they’re doing.
My 2nd phone line has the number xxx-4000. There is a local taxi company with the number xxx-0000. About 2am, bar-closing time, I get calls from drunks wanting a taxi sent to pick them up. Apparently, they are too drunk to look up the number in a phone book, so bartenders tell them it’s “xxx 4 zeroes”. But rather than call -0000 (4 zeroes) they call -4000 (4 + zeroes).
You know, it’s really hard to explain to drunks that they have the wrong number. And then they usually get mad & swear at you anyway! So I eventually just started telling them that I’d send my next cab their way. Now I just leave my fax machine on that line.
I suppose I should be happy that they are calling a cab rather than trying to drive home in that condition!
My cell phone number is one digit off from the phone number of a cocaine dealer named Andre`.
Good times.
I once had a message from a woman who thought she was calling a friend. She proceeded to leave a very graphic description of a “date” she had the night before. I swear, I don’t know how the woman was able to even stand up if what she said was true.
Then there was the message from a very drunk woman telling me to never call her house again. Actually there were four of those in one day. All saying to never call her house again.
I also got a wonderful recipe for grilled pork tenderloin stuffed with spinach and feta cheese from a message on my answering machine.
Occasionally I get a message from the local mental health clinic saying Michael didn’t show up for his appointment and to please call and reschedule. I call back when I get these and let them know they dialed a wrong number. I wouldn’t want it on my conscience that Michael didn’t get the message. It’s gotten to where I just call and say you called the wrong number for Michael again and they know what I’m talking about.
Is it possible they think you are Micheal’s other personality? 
I once came home to find a series of messages from a little boy. He was apparently hoping his friend would call back so they could get together to play, and with each successive phone call he sounded more and more depressed at not getting a response. His last message was a tearful, “I hate you, you’re not my friend!” I felt badly for the poor kid, but he never left a number so that I could tell him his friend wasn’t blowing him off.
For a while, we were getting regular phone calls from one of the local high schools regarding one Deanna who was not showing up for class. Since our number was unlisted then, I assume she made up a home phone to give the school and just happened to hit on our number. I finally got hold of the truant officer to let her know what was up, and that was the last we heard of Deanna.
On the opposite end of things, I remember once sitting with a colleague while she was making phone calls to customers about their special orders. She dialed a wrong number by mistake, and got someone’s answering machine. I heard her say, “You don’t know me, and I just called your number by mistake, but I just wanted to tell you that you have a really nice voice.” I thought she was nuts but she told me to call for myself and see. Lo and behold, he did. I left a message that went, “You don’t know me, but my friend just called you by mistake and said you had a really nice voice, so I was just calling to see…” Wonder what that guy thought when he got home.
When Mr. TeaElle and I were able to get home after 9/11 (we were stuck in Denver while planes were grounded), we found a frantic message from a woman we didn’t know, in Spanish, that translated thusly:
“Pollo? Pollo, you bastard, I know you’re there. This is not the time for you to act like an ass. Pollo! Pollo! I am ovulating right now! Pick up the phone! People are dead and I want my baby!! I want my baby now, Pollo! You bastard, you’d better call me back right now!”
She left a half-dozen similar messages between 9/12 and 9/15. By the 15th, her conception window was pretty well slammed shut, but she was still calling. Pollo, that bastard, (chicken, too) had apparently never come through with the sperm she wanted so badly.
All I could think was “what if Pollo, whatever his real name happened to be, was at the towers?” I’ll never know, I suppose.
I had taken my mother out to dinner and we returned to my apartment to chat. Upon entering I played my answering machine messages to hear this:
A womans voice:
“Hey mutha-fucka, I got your codeine, if you want it tonight come up to the hotel.”
. . . the look on my mother’s face.
Is it possible you really are Michael’s other personality?
-mdf