I work in a big downtown highrise, and my cell phone reception in the office is not good. Every so often, someone calls my cell, and I have to stand by the window and shout “I… will… call… you… back… from… a… land… line!”
I just got a call on my cell — from “Private Caller” — and when I picked it up, a man and a woman started screaming and yelling into the phone. I got over by the window just in time to hear the woman shriek “fucking kill you!” into my ear.
Now, if I’d gotten this call in the morning, right after my coffee, it would have just made my day. But I’m trying to wind up here, I don’t need this crap, so I say “I think you’ve got the wrong number.”
The man pipes up and shouts “No we don’t. You ordered one hundred dollars of Chinese food, you come pay right now!”
I repeat that they have the wrong number. The woman screams something unintelligible, and the man yells that I had better come pay right now.
So I hung up. They haven’t called back.
If you ordered $100 of Chinese food in Chicago tonight, I suggest you go pick it up, and leave a big tip.
The Unfocused Life 