Sorry, wrong number.

I, truly, am a lunatic magnet. I know some people think I make this crap up, but this time I had two witnesses.
I was sitting in a meeting in one of our conference rooms and the phone rings. We look to see who is calling and caller ID gave us an outside line. It wasn’t someone calling (internally) to see if the room was free or if we wanted margaritas, so we ignored the call. The phone rang again- same number. The phone rang a third time, and I decided to answer it.*

*It is these defining moments that make my life interesting.

Me: “Conference Room”

Old Black Man on Phone (hereafter referred to as OBMOP): “Huh?”

Me: “Conference room”

OBMOP: “What did you say? Comcast?”

Me: “You have reached a conference room at XXXXXXXX” (X’d out my company name)

OBMOP: “Huh?”

Me: “You have reached a conference room at XXXXXXXX”

OBMOP: “Huh? Comcast?”

Me: “Sir, you are calling for Comcast? You have the wrong number.”

OBMOP: “Huh?”

Me: “Sir, you are calling for Comcast? You have the wrong number.”

OBMOP: “Sheeeeeeeeeet. Well, Sheeeeeet. I am having trouble with my phone and I need some help.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but you have the wrong number.”

OBMOP: “Well you see, my phone isn’t working and I’m calling from a cell phone. It’s not my cell phone, it’s a friend’s cell phone. But I really would like to get my phone working a’gin.”

Me: “I’m sure you would, but this is not Comcast.”

OBMOP: Huh?

(Bear in mind, I’m in the middle of a 3 hour meeting with two other people)

Me: “Sir, this isn’t Comcast.”

OBMOP: “Can you give me the number?”

Me: “What?”

OBMOP: “Can you give me the number for Comcast?”

Me: “Um…“

OBMOP: “Huh?”

Me: “I don’t know the number.”

OBMOP: “I’m having trouble with my phone. It isn’t working. I am on a friend’s cell phone. You see, I don’t have a cell phone, so I’m calling from a friend’s cell phone. I sure wish you would help me.”

Me: “Ok, hold on for one second and I’ll see if I can look up the number for you.”

Why? Why? Why do I do these things? Why do I get involved?
I click on the internet and of course, it is taking forever as there is very low Wi-Fi in the conference room we are in… is our internet connection with Comcast???… so I’m waiting and waiting. And waiting.

OBMOP: “Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet, what is taking so long?”

Me: “I’m sorry sir, the internet is slow.”

OBMOP: “Huh?”

Me: “The internet is slow.”

OBMOP: “Huh?”

Me: “The internet is slow.”

OBMOP: “I do not have the internet.”

Me: “I’m trying to find the number on the internet.”

OBMOP: “Huh? Can’t you look it up in the phonebook?”

What is a phonebook?

Me: “I don’t have a phonebook.”

OBMOP: “Huh?”

Me: “I don’t have a phonebook.”

OBMOP: “I need to get me a cell phone. Yeah. As soon as I get in touch with Comcast, I’ll get me a cell phone.”

Because him on a cell phone would be a major improvement to this situation.

Me: “That sounds like a good idea.”

OBMOP: “Huh?”

Me: “A cell phone- you should have a cell phone for emergencies.”

OBMOP: “Emergency? What emergency? My phone is done broke, but it ain’t an emergency.”

Me: “No, it’s not.”

OBMOP: “Huh? What is taking you so long? I don’t have time to waste. Sheeeeet, what am I talking about, I got nothing BUT time.”

Me: “I should have the number in a second.”

OBMOP: “Huh? Oh, what about this number 203-COMCAST?”

Me: “Oh, so you have the number?”

OBMOP: “Huh?”

Me: “Do you have the number?”

OBMOP: “You told me I dialed the WRONG number.”

Me: “You did. But 203-COMCAST- You have the correct number.”

OBMOP: “Huh? “

Me: “Sir, call 203-COMCAST.”

OBMOP: “Huh? I don’t know how to dial it. “

Me: “203-266-2278”

This, I may add, is not in any way similar to the number he dialed to get me.

OBMOP: “Huh?”

Me: “ 2…0…3…2…6…6…2…2…7…8…”

OBMOP: “Sheeeeeeeet, I’ll try that.”

Me: “You’re welcome.”

Huh?

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One Response to “Sorry, wrong number.”

  1. Your BFF Says:

    I *want* to say “only you…” — but you know that I’m in the Magnet Club too. Heck, back when we were teens, my sister met her long-term boyfriend through me: he was a wrong number to my phone. (Don’t ask, because I STILL don’t understand how that came to be!)

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