Three days ago my cellphone rings, it’s a fun tune, “Sunny Walks” on the Nokia selection. The caller ID simply says “call”, no number, no name.
I answer cheerily, “This is Jessica!”
“Lemme talk to Kalista.”
“Excuse me?”
“Kalista there?”
“No, I think you have a wrong number.”
click
Well! I’m not going to let a wrong number bring ME down, no way.
Except I got three more of those calls THAT day, each more formal than the first…and a bit curt and cold when I informed them YET AGAIN, that KALISTA HAS GIVEN YOU AN INCORRECT PHONE NUMBER.
I was met with sighs, with ‘mmmhmmms’, with audible raised eyebrows as if I had Kalista giggling in the background, refusing to take the call.
So, last night was number SEVEN of these calls in three days. No caller id, just ‘call’
“May I speak with Kalista ******** (full name)”
while I speak, I ritualistically carve “KILL KILL KILL” in my kitchen counter.
“THIS is an incorrect number for Kalista. And this is the seventh call I’ve received.”
“An incorrect number.”
“Yes.”
“Is this *** *** ****”
“Yes, and it’s my phone number, not Kalista’s.”
“And you know Kalista?”
“No! You have a wrong number”
“Do you know where Kalista is? Right now?”
“NO. WRONG NUMBER”
and the woman hung up.
Ahem
Kalista, angelcake, if you gave MY CELLPHONE NUMBER to a selection of collection agencies [sub] (which I’ve heard on the phone and these people SOUNDED collections ish, very rude and pushy and such, not friends of Kalistas)[/sub] in order to avoid having to speak with them, I will find you.
I will find you and force feed you rotten, molding green peppers. I tie rabid moles to your nether regions and allow them to feast and burrow into your loins. I WILL PULL YOUR LUNGS THROUGH THE BACK OF YOUR SPINE and sacrifice you to the Red Dragon.
These calls MUST STOP. IMMEDIATELY. YOU HEAR ME KALISTA? REPENT.
REPENT NOW, DO IT FOR EASTER, TWATPLUG.
TRUST ME.
JESUS WANTS YOU TO CUT THIS FUCKING SHIT OUT.
