For the past three days, my answering machine has had a message from the same lady, leaving a message for a "Lindsey". For those of you who don't know, my name is Lance and my wife's name is Kirsti. My dogs are Argos and Willy. The cat's name is Oliver. There's a squirrel I often see out the window in the computer room, and I call him Squirrely. In other words, there are no Lindseys here.
Why would she leave repeated messages for a Lindsey, then? That's because our answering machine message says, "This is Lindsey's answering machine. Leave a message for Lindsey." No, wait, that's not quite right. It says that it's Lance and Kirsti's number and people should leave a message for one or both of us. The thing is, the first time, I can get it - you're not paying attention. But a third time? At what point do you suspect that you've got the wrong number?
For some reason, when I was living in San Francisco, I used to get wrong numbers all the time. My message clearly stated that callers had reached a Lance, but I'd get messages for Mark and Tony and Bill and whatever. It got to the point where my message went something like this: "Hi. You have reached Lance Johnson's answering machine. If you're not calling for Lance Johnson, then please don't leave a message. Once again, this is Lance Johnson. Only leave messages for Lance Johnson." It annoyed some of my friends, but I would STILL get messages from clueless people going something like this: "Hey Dave, it's Mary. I just wanted to let you know that I'll be at the restaurant a little bit late...blah, blah, blah, etcetera." I suppose by that point people might have just been screwing with me, but if they did, they were masters at ironic comedy.
What's even worse, one time I remember picking up the phone and getting a call from some guy asking for an Elizabeth. I told him that he had the wrong number, so we said goodbye. He then called again, asking for Elizabeth. I told him that he still had the wrong number. He then asked me if I was sure! As though there was an Elizabeth living with me the whole time, and I just wasn't aware of it! Or perhaps I was Elizabeth, and I had forgotten my own name! I wish that I could convey the indignance in his voice, as though I was being a jerk for not being the person with whom he wanted to speak. For a wrong number, the conversation was taking far longer than it had any right to take. He finally gave up shortly before I was about to just hang up on him.
Oh, and if you leave a comment on this blog, please realize that you're writing on Lance Christian Johnson's blog and that you're responding to my "Wrong number" post. Make sure it has something to do with that. I'm looking at you, Superb Jon.