Years ago, when I moved into my very first apartment ever and set up my very first phone line ever, I ended up with a phone number that had apparently belonged to a man who had disappeared in the night.
I got telemarketing calls. I got political calls. I got repeated angry collections calls: “This is regarding an important financial matter. Please call us back at 000-000-0000.” (long distance on my own dime to yell at them that NO, I had never heard of this guy, had no idea who he was or where he went, and wanted them to go away. I got nasty “But you don’t even have a forwarding address?” remarks from the collections people. “No, I don’t have a forwarding address for this gentleman I never met. I told you. I just got his old phone number. Update your records and stop calling me.”)
My favorite, though, were the random calls at 6:00 am on my answering machine that I would always just barely miss in my sleepy stupor. What were the messages? “Hi, this is AnnoyingCheerfulLady at CompanyX. We were calling to let Dean Campbell know that he really needs to into work this morning. It’s important. Please call us back at 000-0000.” I would try angrily calling them back, and not get an answer. Apparently my message of “Hi, you’ve reached beanpod. Please leave a message and I’ll call you back. If you’re calling for Dean Campbell, I am not him, I do not know him, I do not know how to get in touch with him. If you are calling for him, please delete this number from your records, as it is wrong.” didn’t get through to them. You’d think he would have been fired, eventually, and I could have had some peace. Oh no, the calls kept coming.
FINALLY, one morning, I answered it and got AnnoyingCheerfulLady and explained, quite politely, and she apologized all over herself and said she would delete the number. I managed to ask whether they ever got in touch with this guy, and why they wouldn’t notice that he never got their messages. She said she wasn’t sure. Not sure? Oh, we’re just a call center here, the company’s quite large. Ok, whatever, stop calling me. I went to sleep happy. A week later, I got another call from AnnoyingCheerfulLady#2.
“Dean Campbell,” whoever you are, I hate you.
ETA: I’m a chick, so the answering machine voice should have been that much more obvious.