You’ve Got The Wrong Number

I snapped last night. It was almost 10 pm, and this was the third telephone call interrupting the Gonzaga game.

Me: “Look, I’m sorry. You’ve got the wrong number. I’m not your grandson. You need to stop calling this number. It’s late.”

Old lady (kind, but obviously senile): “Well, do you have his number? How do I get the right number?”

Me (resisting the urge to suggest she use the Internet): “I don’t know your grandson’s phone number. Call directory assistance. Just don’t call this number any more. Ok? Good luck.”

And I hung up at that point. This was probably about the seventh time in four days this lady has called me, introducing herself as “Grandma” and not believing me when I tell her that I’m not her grandson. We’ve gone through this exchange seven times. I was polite and courteous the first six calls, but last night was the breaking point.

Hopefully she’s moved onto the next name in the phone book. Still, I feel bad. Maybe I should try and help reunite her with her grandson, using my considerable resources of Internet access and functioning mental faculties. It would certainly look sharp on my good-deed resume. I might actually consider this when she calls back.

9 thoughts on “You’ve Got The Wrong Number”

  1. Ok, and if she REALLY isn’t your grandma, then maybe you should adopt her. Being nice to old people has its privileges. My grandma sends me $100 every Christmas, and this year she started sending $100 in August in case she dies before Christmas, and then another $100 when she makes it to December. I can’t really complain.

  2. First of all, this is a completely true story.

    Unfailingly, she called within a half hour of this post going up. I’ve got to hand it to her, she doesn’t give up easily.

    I’m going to suggest she hire a private investigator.

  3. And when did you become such a huge Zag fan, MR? Just because you moved to Spokane? I moved to PHX and I don’t root for the Cardinals. I think you just like Gonzaga because you’re jealous of Morrison’s big, beautiful mustache.

    Now that I’m done with that, I can say that I root for the Zags too even though I have no connection to them whatsoever…

  4. Her grandson actually has the same name as MR. So Grandma actually asked me last night if I had the number for her MR. Just because I know one MR doesn’t mean I know all of them right? I guess when you get old your logic is one of the first things to go?

  5. this might sound morbid, but next time she calls exclaim “MR” out loud and say he just passed away last week. that’ll keep the old hag off you for a while.

  6. This reminds me of the Seinfeld episode when the grandson is calling Elaine looking for his grandma. If you ask me, I think someone is running out of new material for his posts…

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