Some of you may remember a while back I posted a story about
receiving a phone call from a number I didn’t recognize, but I answered the
call anyway. The person on the other end was looking for someone not likely
belonging to the same ethnicity, generation or gender as myself. I hung up and
moments later received a second call from that same number. (If this synopsis was not eloquent enough for you, please consult my earlier post entitled Wrong Number and perhaps that will be more to your liking) I thought that this
was the most awkward phone conversation one could possibly have.
I was wrong.
No less than one hour ago, I received a phone call from a
collection of numbers not symmetrical to any of the numerical patterns already
in my contact list (by the way, the moral of this story comes now, if you are
not in my contact list, I’m not picking up) but I pick up and say “Hello.”
Without pause, in return I get an enthusiastic and sweet “Hey baby!” I am not
in a relationship, nor am I a tech savvy infant so although it pained me to
hang up on someone who was clearly a sweet and loving woman, I said “I’m sorry,
you must have the wrong number.” (P.S. when did referring to your significant
other in the same likeness as a small child become endearing?? I hope to one
day understand….Anyway….oh yeah, end parenthesis!) She hangs up and not moments
later I get a call from the same number. I rationally decide to let it go to
voicemail where she will hear a message in which MY voice states MY name, my
current status of unavailability and a brief apology that if, after restating
my name clearly and eloquently, I am not in fact who you are looking for, I’m
sorry to have wasted your time. No voicemail. Good! Five seconds pass, I’m in
the cl……Dangit! My ringtone is one of those random, preset, really happy
sounding jingles that’s really deceiving when you know you’re either A.) Going
to argue with the person on the other end or B.) Getting called by a complete
stranger for the third time in ninety seconds. It occurs to me that this may very
well be Matthew Mcconaugheys’ wife (Lord knows this wouldn’t be the first time
our phone voices got misconstrued…..must be so awkward for him!)
Now, growing up in the Woonton household, we had a rule
(Bahahaha……A rule) No cell phone use after 9:30! On any given evening at
9:29 and 50 seconds my mother would be at my door giving me a countdown.
However, this rule, much like touching the top of a beautifully lit stove or fitting a
fork oh so snuggly into the electrical outlet, I had to find out the adverse
effects of breaking for myself. I could still hear her sharp yet somehow sweet
voice in my head. I was jolted from this reminiscent daydream by the sound of
my phone.
Well mom, you were
right yet again! She had clearly done what she did in order to keep me away
from crazy clingy women like this.
I choked back tears as I glared up at the clock realizing that
I had only 7 ½ hours until I had to be up at 5 the next morning for work. With
a shaky hand I placed the phone against my ear and in an absolutely grief-stricken
voice pleaded with the woman on the other end “Please! Just let me go to sleep! But do me a
favor, will you? When you do get in touch with your husband, tell him that I
said if he EVER needs anything, a place to stay, a friend to talk to, a new
cell phone provider, I PROMISE to be there for him. Here, let me give you my
number……”
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