Eh, Sorry, Wrong Number

lime green, lime green and tangerine...

Eh, sorry. I've got The Cure stuck in my head.

Since we 've been on the topic of wrong numbers, I thought I'd share a couple of other frequent, but far less irritation wrong numbers we get calls for.

My home phone number is very similar to that of my grandparent's business, a number I've known my whole life. In fact, only the last digit is different. I figured I would get calls for them, but I never have. However, I have given the shop phone number out a few times and my grandmother just gives them the right number! I figure I may as well pass on the favor.

I frequently get calls for a local independent auto parts store, whose last digit is the only difference. When we first got voicemail I got several increasingly frantic phone calls from some poor woman who was desperately trying to get in contact with them. Mom called back and spoke to her sister, explaining that she had mis-dialed (8 times) and wished her luck in getting her car fixed. The sister was very nice and apologised. I have now memorized the auto parts store's number so I can tell people where they meant to call.

More recently, I have received a few calls for one of our local banks, who I also have accounts with. That one is more of a curiosity because the 4th and 7th digits are off from mine. I don't have that one memorized yet.

I've saved the best one for last. The first time I gave my now dear friend Heather my phone number, she paused while writing and gave me a quizzical look. I repeated it. She started laughing and told me that number was a reverse of her grandparent's phone number!

I get a lot of wrong calls, so it is hard to say how many I've gotten for Heather's grandparents over the years, but since I've become aware of it, I know of at least three. The first one really caught me by surprise. The caller id showed a local number and a name that seemed familiar, but I couldn't figure out why. When I answered the woman asked for Jack. I was confused, not putting the pieces together until several minutes later. The night before we all had attended an event held by the local historical society. Heather's grandfather was involved in planting heirloom varieties of apple trees on the property of a building they are restoring. The woman's name from the caller id had also spoken during the informal ceremony, and I recalled hearing her tell Heather's grandfather that she would call him to discuss another upcoming event.

Sometimes I marvel at what a small town I live in.