Best wrong message ever
“Hi, this is Earl from Earl’s Body and Repair shop. Your caddy is fixed and ready to go. Give us a call. It’s about noon right now. OK, thanks, bye.”
I don’t remember if he actually was Earl. But there was a caddy involved. I hope the person called and asked about their car. I don’t listen to my voice mail very often, because I don’t get phone calls here. No reason to. Anyone that could possibly want to communicate with me inside the building does so through e-mail.
I do get the occasional wrong number from someone inside the building, but it’s from another department. I wonder if this person calling ever figures out why her calls are never returned. Does that make me a bad person, that I don’t bother to forward the messages? We have a phone directory. Use it.
I get some hilarious wrong numbers at work. Some people think that because I work for the government, I must have a secret line to the White House. When I tell people they have the wrong number, they insist that I still ought to be able to help them get a job/contact congressman so-and-so/speak to the President on their behalf.
For awhile, a local D.C. politician (no one famous) had mis-posted his phone number on his website. It was my number people were calling instead. And they did not care that I was not associated with the person in question, they still went right ahead and told me their troubles.
Have you ever wondered what kind of people call a City Councilman? Well, they are either crackpots, or some seriously angry people.
Mostly just angry.
I called around for a few days trying to find someone who could remove my phone number from the man’s website. Finally, I get his chief of staff, who (from the background noise) appears to be at a party. He said he’d take care of it, and sure enough the calls stopped.
Anyway, so did you go pick up your caddy?
No, I’m afraid I left the caddy where it was. I don’t really like them. Now if he said, your really fast and sweet Camaro is ready, I’d be right over.
True. The caddy’s ride is a bit too squishy for Mel B.’s blood. She needs something rough and tumble and sexy and fast.