>>Being Chaotic Evil means never having to say your sorry…unless the other guy is bigger than you.<<
—The dragon observes
My mom’s home number is xxx-3900, which was the main number to the hospital until about 2 years before my mom got it. When I was a kid, we would get all these panicky calls from people trying to reach the hospital, so we always knew the correct number to give them.
Also, the number to a big department store in the next town was/is yyy-3900. Mom still gets calls for them. She has to explain that the store is in Assboink, not Podunk, and to please dial the other exchange. People get really beligerent about that, and ask her “Are you sure this isn’t (name of store)?”
Sylence, I hate you. I’m all red in the face and practically doubled-over laughing and people are staring.
Anyway, I have a couple of similar problems, but not with the phone. The first one is that Carl keeps getting mail for him mom and for his dad’s fiancé. They are both dead. I feel so bad for him whenever he gets something for his mom, because I know he still hurts thinking about it. It’s awful.
The other problem isn’t quite as bad, but it is annoying. I use AIM to talk to all of my Houston friends without paying long-distance. A few months ago, I started to get IMs from people who didn’t believe that I don’t know them. At first they seemed to think I was joking, then they’d get hurt that I didn’t recognize them. Turned out that some girl signed up for AIM under the name Cessondra. And she is really popular. I get all kinds of IMs for her, all the time.
But I have one that’s worse. Back when I was on AOL I used the handle Doight. One day some girl registered as D0ight (with a zero for the o.) Not only did people constantly confuse us, she was a major bitch and was constantly spouting hateful crap. Then people would yell at me for it, and never believed that I wasn’t her. It was awful. That’s when I changed to Cessandra. I really hope I don’t have to change again; I’ve gotten very attached to this name!
I would’ve gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for those meddling kids!
I remember that there this very popular BBS I used to call and it closed down. The number got reassigned pretty quickly (probably in less than 2 weeks) and so whoever lived there must have been getting tons of people trying to dial in with a modem. Probably 20 a day. I remember calling the number and I heard a woman’s voice over the modem’s speaker saying “Stop calling! Why the fuck don’t you leave me alone!! I’ll kill you! Stop calling me!”
She must have thought it was someone trying to harass her.
ChrisCTP sez:
I’m confused. What have I ever done to make you think I’m not an asshole?
Crystal City, VA? Oh! You mean Arlington.
Sylence, you are an evil twisted genius. ‘Existential crisis’?
We are starting to look forward to these calls, thanks to you guys. It was making me so nuts, I never saw the humor possibilities.
Mr. Davis has been, in the last few days:
Resting in the hospital after extensive testing in the mother ship.
enrolled in the Witness Protection program. Usually gets dead silence.
I also hum the theme from Bonanza until they hang up.
Life is good.
Still trying to think of something witty to say here
Ha! the 800 number we give our suppliers so they can call regarding insurance etc. was once listed in error in a magazine called “Big, Busty Babes!” It was one of those “call and talk to these girls” (in the photo) adds – so we were getting all sorts of confused men calling and either hanging up or waiting for someone to talk dirty and ask for a credit card. We might never have figured it out if one nice fellow had not called back to tell me where he got the number…
I am a redhead, you see, and I do not tempt. I insist. -Cristi
My favorite wrong number was by a friend of mine. Some woman called, and my friend said she had the wrong number, and hung up. Of course, 5 seconds later the phone rang again. Knowing it was the wrong caller, she answered the phone panting and out of breath, as if currently engaged in sex:
Friend: <gasp gasp> “Hello?”
Caller: “Uh, hello, is Bob there?”
Friend: <gasp> “Wait a second…” <speaks away from phone> “Is your name Bob?”
Then she hung up.
I rather liked that.
Esprix
Next time I want your opinion I’ll beat it out of you.
Sorry, screwed that up. Right after saying, “Wait a second,” she moved her mouth away from the phone as if asking the person she was engaged in sex with.
Now d’ya get it? <hee hee>
Esprix
Next time I want your opinion I’ll beat it out of you.
How come wrong numbers are never busy?
Anyway, here at college, the buildings are all wired very similarly (sp?) as far as phone numbers are concerned. And, after more than a few calls asking for people who don’t live here, or haven’t lived here (i’ve lived in the same unit for three years now), I started taking messages for these people.
Somewhere, there are a lot of ticked off people for never having a phone call returned.
“He who does not read is no better off that he who cannot read.” Mark Twain
Zeb, I feel your pain.
I have had my present phone number for six years. Just last week I got another phone call for that deadbeat Annette Marshall. Annette, I know more about your spending habits than anyone should. I know your former address. (Would I knew your present one!) I know your bank, your credit cards, your favored department stores and your hobbies. You and Chuck (I’ve forgotten his last name) used to share this number, but Chuck evidently paid his bills since calls for him stopped after the first month, which was reasonable.
The pattern seems to be: I get calls. I put a message on the machine saying she gave this number back to the phone co. and aren’t I the lucky one who got it instead. Calls stop. I change message so I don’t have to explain the whole story to everyone who calls me. Silence ensues long enough for my guard to relax. Then (I presume) some new hire gets the deadbeat list sloughed off onto him and the calls resume. It’s not constant enough to make me change the number, especially after six years, but it does make me blink when I hear yet another Ms. Marshall, please call 800-WHATEVER…
On another note, I was just visiting Mom when the phone rang. An obvious telemarketer asked if he could speak to my late father. I replied Only if you brought your own medium. Silence, then click. Mom was in earshot and wasn’t pleased with me, but I’m sure he’s heard worse.