Friday, November 21, 2008

Wrong Number

I used to make prank phone calls. Way back in the day, there was an actual phone number we could dial, and anyone whose phone number started with 761 would be tied into an open line where we could listen to whatever conversation was going on their phone calls without them knowing about it. It was illegal, and my brother had obtained the number from one of his friends whose dad worked for the phone company. While it wasn't legal,  it was fun,  at least for awhile,  and back in the day....that was what counted the most.
So there we were, listening to the lives of others, and it occurred to us just how boring other people's lives really are, unless they are scandalously breaking the law, as we were doing by listening in on their phone calls.
Comes the cell phone, and it can be turned on by secret government agents who will listen to all the wretched flotsam of a life spent watching the Game Show Network, and all the phone calls made to her mother about the latest repeat episode of Full House, and what do you get for all your science, technology and tax money? Bored agents, that's what.

My brother now has a cell phone which will read out his text messages, with either a manly computerized monotone voice, or a female computerized monotone voice. He chose the female voice and gave her the happy fun name of  "Borg Queen".  He constantly sends the Hubster text messages, and my husband, no keyboard whiz he, usually responds with one or two word responses.
Well! The Borg Queen doesn't like to recite  mere, one word answers, so saith Brother, and demands the Hubster to send the most vile, badly spelled invective he can cram into a hand held electronic messaging device, FORTHWITH! And Hubster, always wanting to oblige the Borg Queen, does as asked, and the Borg Queen, totalitarian, but not interested in exactitudes, dutifully recites them without emotion back to her Dark Lord...My Brother.
Moi, I am just getting used to doing the whole text thingy, and last night, my phone went into orgasmic vibrations alerting me to an incoming text message. I looked at the number and, not recognizing it, proceeded to read the message:
Unbeknownst to me number:  hey random question. last thursday when you and me and greg went for breakfast, was the other guy named Ben?
I wracked and wracked my increasingly forgetful mind to see if I'd gone out to breakfast with anyone who might have been named Greg or Ben and someone else, and not remembering, I played it safe and wrote back:
Me:  I was too drunk to remember.
Then, to be on the even safer side, I sent another text to inquire about the following horrific (if true) possibility:
Me:  I didn't throw up on the waitress, did I?
After a few moments Unbeknownst wrote back:
Unbeknownst:  Wrong number?
Me:  Yes, but thank you for giving me a really good reason to smile.
Unbeknownst:  anytime. ha.
A little bit later, my cell phone once again starts to vibrate with another text message. This time it is from the irksome middle child:
Mary: remind me to gather up canned goods when i get home for english class tomorrow cause i'll forget if i don't ask ya now.
Me:  Why do you need canned goods?
Mary:  Cause it's extra points for english if I bring some in. And i'd like some of those points.
Me:   Will it bring your grade up from an F to an F+?
Mary: Hahahaha. Not funny.
The only thing I can think of in response to that is this:

So there.


  1. I used to make prank phone calls too. Got in HUGE trouble when I was caught.

    I spent my years of adolescent boredom in suburband Detroit. We had this thing called "pipeline" in which one would dial 411 and get the recording that the wrong number had been dialed and to hang up and dial again. Then there was this two or three second forth dimension inwhich one could hear these really faint voices with people on the other end. It was a way of getting phone numbers of kids. I spend hours on it getting numbers of guys. It was a free phone-harmony for stupid teens who were bored and too young to get a job.

    My irksomne daughter is merciless with wrong number texts that come to her. She's had people convinced that someone was going to eat their soul when she was done with them. Myself, I loathe texting. There's no feeling of total disgust than taking the irksome daughter to a nice lunch only to watch her spend the time texting and not conversing.

    Only six months to go and then the cell phone family contract is done and she will be paying for the privledge of being rude.

  2. My goodness, woman, but we are leading parallel lives! Do our irksome daughters have a righteous comeuppance on the way! Wait till she gets her first bill!
    I don't text often, but writing on a blog isn't like texting. Texting interrupts you while you are eating, while you are driving, while....and I wanted, really WANTED to kill the wretch last night, because 1. She was supposed to help me deliver papers on a rather large route I was subbing for a friend, and she'd promised to help, but at the very last minute she backed out, as I suspected she would, so I was resigned to having to do it by myself. But as I was settling down for bed, she began to TEXT ME!!! Aaargh. And the first one went: Are you mad at me.
    Me: No. I figured this would happen.
    She: you are too mad.
    Me: Yes. You keep interrupting my sleep.
    She: Oh. Well. Goodnight.
    And I finally got to sleep at midnight, only to wake at 2 in order to deliver the news no one cares about unless it isn't in their driveway by 6 am.

  3. Jewel,

    Actually, my oldest is OK and responsible. She just plugs away at college and does the marching band thing. Her part of the phone bill is only about $18 per month. The younger will get her return on the Karma bit soon when she moves to Salt Lake with her boyfriend. There, she will have to get a job and enter the world of adults and actually have to act like one. But that's what she wants and there is nothing I can do about it. We'll continue to fork out the tuition that we would have if she was attending the local community college...she'll have to come up with the rest herself.

    I feel for her really, hope her boyfriend doesn't dump her. We won't be 30 minutes away to get her ass out of a jam.

    Who, by the way, is playing my favorite Sonata? I can't remember if it's Chopin or Betovan (can't spell today to save my life) I'm not used to it being played at that tempo.

    My oldest is home for the holidays. Tonight I am making her favorite dish which is this Northern Italian lamb stew with fried polenta. It's a recipe from one of Biba Caggiano's books. Love her recipes.

  4. You see, dear! We ARE living parallel lives! My eldest are in college and plugging away, too! and Middle Child is going to have to learn the hard way about everything in life. I can only let her at this point. But I know how you feel. And this is the 3rd Movement of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. I chose it, because everyone is familiar with the first movement, and even my piano students think they know it because they recognize the first movement. But the jaw dropper, the movement that always raises the roof is the third movement. While most intermediate students can passably play the first, only the accomplished pianist can clobber the third! It is the winning argument in any debate, musical or otherwise! I am glad you liked it.

  5. I am so googling Biba Caggiano! The recipe sounds like comfort food to the enth degree!

  6. I have a signed copy of Bibas latest cookbook :)

    I read all this tho and I dont have a cell phone. Now Im glad I dont lol. I may have to get one tho for this move since we will be without a permanent landing spot for a month or so. I so do not want to get one!

  7. I just bought a copy of Bibi's Northern Italian recipes cookbook. Thanks, Lynne for sharing that! And while I don't mind my cellphone, and even find it useful, I seldom generate phone calls or text. It's always a response with me. Someone has to call me in order for me to use the thing.
    Seanymph, my brother and sister in law don't have landlines in their home anymore. Also, we are thinking of getting rid of our phone and just keeping the number for voicemail. It's a business number, so we don't use it for personal calls.


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