Let me start by saying that I’m terrible at remembering numbers. I had a hell of a time in history class, where everything is a date on the calendar. I barely know my social security number, forget about my driver’s license number. The worst are phone numbers - by far the worst are phone numbers.
So anyway, I get home from work early today, and my wife’s not home. She’s likely at her mother’s, who lends a hand with the young’uns, so I give them a call.
Someone answers. “Hello?” I hear the young voice of my sister-in-law, See. (Yes, her name is “See”. As in “See’s Candies.”)
“Hello?” I say.
“Hello?” she repeats. This is a game. See is the baby of the family, so even though she’s in her early twenties now, she still has a bubbly sense of humor. It’s childish, but we’re having fun.
“Hello?” I repeat.
“Who is this?”
“It’s me.”
“Me who?” Okay, so now she is going into knock-knock joke territory. The realm of third-graders and sitcom writers. I steer the conversation back to the important bits - me.
“No no no. Me.”
“Okay, who is this?”
“Who is this?”
“Who are you?” Anyone who’s watched Babylon 5 knows the answer to this.
“What do you want? Oh, wait, I don’t think you’ve seen that show.”
“Why are you calling me?”
“I thought I’d say ‘hi.’”
“Is there someone here you want to talk to?”
“Yeah, but I thought I’d say ‘hi’ to you too.”
“Do I know you?” Highly inquisitive tone of voice. She’s such a tease.
“I think you do.”
“Is this a prank call? Because I’m getting really close to hanging up.”
There are moments in a grown man’s life where he must decide to stand and fight, or run away. There is no correct choice. The man who stands will conquer his fears; the man who runs will live to see another day. (Or something like that.) I usually run. It’s the coward in me.
“See, it’s me.”
“I’m not See.”
There are also moments in a man’s life where he must decide whether he’s going to faint and thus lose control of his bladder, or just lose control of his bladder. Lucky me, I just took a piss.
“Did I just dial 123-456-7890?”
“Uh, no. Wrong number!” Click.
:smack:
No, wait, it’s not so bad. She didn’t know who I was, and…oh. Caller ID.
:smack: :smack:
It’s all right, it’s an honest mistake, anyone could have made it - but I couldn’t identify a family member over the phone, whom I’ve known since she was a kid.
:smack: :smack: :smack:-a-whacka :smack: :smack: :smack:
Sigh.