After the most stressful week I've ever had in my whole work career, I was looking forward to relaxing all weekend and recovering my sanity, but I fear I may go off the deep end instead. See there's this INSANE woman who keeps calling me. She has called, oh, eight times perhaps? looking for Mark. She's left voicemails with messages saying, "I'm not sure if this is the right number, but if it is, could Mark call me back?" Of course, there is no Mark at my house. So no one returns her call. So she calls again. I've spoken to her, I've told her, "This is the wrong number." In fact, the second-to-last-time, I said, "I don't understand why you keep calling. I told you there's no Mark here. Why do you keep calling me? Why?" I really wanted to know, because I don't get it.
Aren't we all a little embarrassed when we get a wrong number? Don't you just apologize and hang up? Then wait a few minutes, dial real carefully, watching every number, and hope it goes through? And when it doesn't, and it goes again to the place you didn't expect, don't you give up? You realize that somehow, you've gotten the wrong number, and there's nothing more you can do about it. Unless you're this crazy woman.
me: "Why do you keep calling?"
her: "I just thought that, well, maybe somehow, if I dialed the digits a different way, I'd get him. But I guess I just dialed the same number again."
me: "Yes, you did. And he's not here. And he'll never be here, because I don't know who he is!"
I thought that statement ended it sometime last week. This afternoon, this weekend afternoon as I was relaxing in my apartment, just basking in the nothingness, in the freedom to eat microwave popcorn for lunch, my phone rang.
her: "Hi, is Mark there?"