Why is it that whenever we get a new phone number, we get one that was previously owned by a person who owes many creditors? I know, I know, a person can’t actually “own” a phone number. They belong to the phone company. We learned that when someone tried to sell “867-5309.”
Ok, when we first moved here, we quickly discovered that our brand spankin’ new phone number was previously used by a person named Ronald. Boy, would I like to meet Ronald. Apparently, Ronald never paid any of his bills. Ronald had a little problem with buying lots of stuff, but not paying for it.
Let me offer a short history.
In the beginning, I used to just mess with the telemarketers who called. We were getting pounded and it was fun to get them to go through the whole sales process. Right when it was time to sign, I would finally spring it on them that I was either a 13 year old kid or I was just released from some psychiatric ward or something like that. They would get so mad at me. It really made me feel good inside. Almost as good as stuffing newspaper in the return mail envelopes I get from junk mail and sending them back. Now, that feels good.
After I put this number on the “Do Not Call List,” the telemarketing calls simmered down a bit. To this day, they still come, but not nearly as much as they used to. These days are left to the almighty debt collection calls. They are all looking for that big spender, Ronald.
A few days ago, I received a nice phone call from a woman looking for Ronald. She asked for him and I politely informed her that this is no longer Ronald’s phone number. She said, “Ok” and hung up. Yesterday, I received another call, this time from a gentleman, asking for Ronald. I told him that this is no longer Ronald’s phone number. We both hung up. About a minute later, the phone rang again. The caller ID told me it was the same person. I kind of hastily picked the phone up and said, “Hello.” The same guy asked if I knew where Ronald was. I told the guy that I have no idea who Ronald even is and that we just got this number. He gave a little chuckle and apologized.
Well folks, I am quite sure that I have been identified as Ronald.
Let me go through the process of what happened after that nice debt collection guy hung up with me after our last chat. He said to himself, “Yeah, sure buddy. You don’t know Ronald. Uh huh. All I know is that I heard a male voice over the phone, in a house, mid-day, during the work week and you are going to tell me that you aren’t Ronald and that you never even met him? BINGO BABY!!! Gotcha Ronald.”
Just a few minutes ago, the phone rang. Since the telephone ringing is like crack to a crackhead, I just had to pick it up. They didn’t even say hello. I’m not sure it was even a real person. The thing on the other end said something like this, “You must call us by noon tomorrow or we will be forced to make decisions without your input. Call 1-800-blah-blah.” At first, I thought it was some old lady who smoked. I can always tell a smoker. I tried to cut her off. The first time I said something, I heard a slight pause. I kept trying to say something, but she wouldn’t stop talking. I was like, “HELLO, WHO IS THIS??? STOP TALKING!!!” When she got to the phone number part, I started yelling, “ONE, TWO, THREE…” and so on. I was trying to confuse her by yelling out numbers. Mind you, while all this was going on, Laura was sitting downstairs listening, with her hand shaped as a gun pointing to her head. Oh, the patience one must have with me.
The lady never stopped talking and didn’t even give me any indication that she was human. If she wasn’t, I am a little embarrassed. It’s not cool to yell at robots.
I know how these companies work. I think we are at step 8 of the 9 step program. In some computer somewhere, there is a little check mark next to the name, Ronald. The file says, “Yes, he is alive and well. We are on his tail and he will be caught soon. I can predict that we will get our money. Ronald, if you were here to read this, you would know that YOU ARE GOING DOWN!!!
I keep thinking that I want to find the phone number to let these people know that I have no affiliation with Ronald. After I think that, I stop and think that I want it to keep going on. Almost as if something is pushing me along. It’s like trying to give yourself a haircut. You know you just took a chunk off and it looks pretty good. You should probably stop there. Oh no. You ask yourelf, “Wouldn’t it look better if another chunk were taken off?” After a few minutes, you are standing there, staring in the mirror looking like one of those Barbie Dolls that you tried to give a haircut to when you were a kid. Well, not me…I didn’t have Barbie Dolls.
And to think, when I woke up this morning, I had absolutely nothing to write about.