Yeah, so I dialed the wrong number yesterday and left a voicemail for someone. Not deliberately, mind you. I didn’t know it was the wrong number until I received a voicemail from the woman I had mis-dialed, informing me that I dialed the wrong number. Normally, I would think it was very thoughtful of this woman (I’ll call her “Gertie”) to let me know I had mis-dialed; however, she seemed rather snippy about it. She sounded like an older woman, and somewhat cranky. In short, she sounded like a character from Mama’s Family, but not as eloquent and well-spoken.

In the voicemail, she stated that I dialed the wrong number and that I should be more careful when dialing the telephone. Um, I couldn’t agree more.

About an hour later I received another call from Gertie. I let it go to voicemail, because dammit, I’m busy. Her voicemail stated that she was calling again to tell me that I dialed the wrong number and that I NEED to be careful when using the telephone machine. This fact was becoming more obvious to me.

Two more hours went by and Gertie called me yet again. This time I answered the phone:

Me: Internal Revenue Service

Gertie:(oblivious, dang) I received a call from this number but you dialed the wrong number and I want to know why.

(Her voice seemed more shrill than her voicemails let on.)

Me: Yes, Ma’am. Thank you for letting me know. I’m sorry to have bothered you.

(Apparently, my snide, dismissive attitude comes through even when I’m being polite.)

Gertie: Are you being a smart-ass?

Me: Not yet, Ma’am.

Gertie: Well, you need to be more careful when using the telephone. I don’t know why you can’t understand that.

Me: Ma’am, what YOU don’t know could fill a warehouse. (God, I love that line.)

Gertie: What?

Me: I said, “I’m sorry I mis-dialed your house.” Good-bye.

Gertie: I don’t like your atti-

I hung up. Haven’t heard back from her, but just to be safe, I’m gonna stay outta Compton for awhile.