The Wrong Number
Few people are aware of this, but I could easily have been one of the
world's great concert pianists, had I decided to ignore my passion for
storytelling and writing humor and instead learned to play the piano.
My fingers possess such a nimble dexterity that even as a child, my
music teachers would gush that in me they had found one of those
special students who, in their words, "could type." I am sure that by
deciding to adopt the qwerty keyboard instead of the sort mastered by
the likes of Johannes Brahmas and Ludwig Rollover Beethoven, I have
deprived the world of great musical masterpieces, which you would
think the Pulitzer Committee would take into consideration once in a
while, not that I'm interested in their stupid prize anyway.
With such amazing capability literally at my fingertips, I am, as you
would suspect, not only an extremely gifted typist, but also very
adroit at using the telephone as well. I've never in my life
misdialed a number, which is why I can report to you that there is
something seriously amiss with our local phone company: Despite my
deadly accuracy, I seem to be connected to the wrong party with
ever-increasing frequency.
Case in irritating point: The other day I was calling my mechanic,
and was startled when instead of his greeting message (Hello, this is
Melvin Walletdrainer. I can't come to the phone right now because I
am busy translating Bruce's income into some greasy car parts. Leave
a message at the tone...), a woman answered.
"Hello?" She seemed suspicious.
"Hi, is this... is this Melvin's?"
"Who? What? How did you get this number? You're not supposed to be
calling here, this is an unlisted number!" And with that, she slammed
the phone down.
I thought about this for a moment and decided I was dissatisfied with
how the conversation had ended. I pushed "redial."
"Hello?"
"Yes, Ma'am, I phoned just a minute ago? You see, the thing is, I
wasn't calling YOU. There have been some recent malfunctions--"
"You weren't calling me?" she interrupted.
I decided to let her rudeness pass. "Right. I wasn't trying to
reach you."
"Twice?" she demanded, her voice rising.
"Well no, the second time I actually meant to call you, because--"
"Do I know you?"
"Well..." I gave a modest laugh. "You've probably heard of me,
because I write a newspaper col--"
"Stop calling me!" she bellowed, hanging up with a loud click.
This struck me as being intolerably uncivil. I connected again.
"Hello?" She sounded suspicious.
"Hi, look, you don't seem to understand how this technology works,
here. See--"
"Just a minute, you can talk to my son," she snarled.
Well, good, someone who would understand what was going on.
"Hello?"
"Hi, I--"
"Look here, buddy, you've got a lot of nerve harassing my mother."
"Sorry?"
"I ought to come over there and punch you in the nose, you pervert."
"Pervert!"
"You better apologize or you'll be saying you're sorry."
"I... What? Look, in the first place, you can't come punch me in
the nose, which by the way would be very unwise for your physical
health, because you don't even know where I live."
"Do too. I have caller ID."
"Well, that doesn't tell you where I live."
"Does too."
I hesitated. Could this be true? Perhaps I'd better calm this guy
down. "There's no need for any of that. I was simply calling your
mother to tell her I was connected to her by mistake."
"You mean you called her two times to tell her you dialed the wrong
number?"
"Well, yes, except, well, no. You see, I have these nimble
fingers--"
"You got to be the stupidest human on the face of the earth. I never
heard of anyone so stupid. You're dumber than a, like--what are those
animals that stand there eating grass?"
"Cows?"
"No, not cows, you idiot! I know what a cow is."
"Well your mother's no genius either; she said her number was
unlisted, as if--"
"No one calls my mother stupid! I'm on my way over, buddy. What's
your address?"
"Ha!" I barked, slamming down the receiver.
So you can see my complaint: This telephonic malfunction very nearly
led to me being forced to put some jerk in the hospital.
I trust that the FCC will look into the matter.
- Bruce Cameron -
[ by
W. Bruce Cameron Copyright © 1999, (bruce@wbrucecameron.com) -- {used with permission} ]
Inspirational Humor
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