Please allow me a minor rant, thanks.

6 02 2010

I’ve had the same cell number for about 3 years now.

Sidebar: My hubby surprised me with a cell on Mother’s Day, years ago, by stashing the phone in my car and then calling me when I was driving home…. before the new laws of course… I was frustrated at first, because I could hear the ringing, and could not for the life of me figure what the hell was going on. When I finally did find the phone, I thought someone had randomly threw a found phone in my car that day. Yep. Sometimes, I am reeeeeaaaaaally slow on the uptake.

Well, anyway, I finally had a phone and immediately questioned my ability to live without it for the previous 36 years of my life…

However. Someone named Denise began to haunt me.

I got many, many calls for Denise. At first I was sweet and nice in my response. “Oh, no. Sorry, this isn’t Denise’s number anymore…”

Then, after a few months of extraordinarily annoying messages from Blockbuster regarding late fees for that bitch Denise, and other folks asking me if I knew what number she had now, I changed my voice mail message to explicitly reveal that I was not Denise, and NO I did NOT know how to get a hold of her….

I began to intensely dislike Denise. Return your goddamn movies Denise. Tell people you’ve changed your f*cking number, Denise. Jeebus, Denise, I swear, if I ever find you, I WILL KICK YOUR ASS!!!!

Then the calls stopped. Yay! I was released from the torture of saying “No, this isn’t Denise” to random people.

But then, on Thursday, I got another call from a restricted number, whom I thought was my Dad. My months, nay YEARS of Denise-free torture was gone, just like that.

Me: “Hey!”

Caller: “Hi, is this Denise”?

Me: (Fingers slowly clutching the phone in anger) “No. This hasn’t been Denise’s number for about three years now.”

Caller: “Oh. Well. Can you tell me how to get a hold of her, then?”

I slowly expelled a snort through my flared nostrils…… and realized that I was about to tell this kind and somewhat oblivious woman exactly how I felt about Denise….

Me: “Now how do you think I would EVER know that? This is a random number given to me by the phone company. I do NOT know Denise, I have NO idea where she lives, I don’t know who she is…”

Me, thinking in my brain: “Hey, wow! You didn’t even use a the old F-bomb. Good for you Kris!”

Silence.

Caller: “Well, I’m sorry to bother you.”

Me: “That’s what they all say.”

Click.

Seriously, Denise. If there is ever a time that we meet, I just might have to explain why I don’t like you very much.

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8 responses

6 02 2010
Connie

*giggle*
I occasionally get calls on my home number asking if this is the Salvation Army.
Oh, lawdy. Are they WAY wrong on that one!!

6 02 2010
Kris

Hmm. You could benefit from that, if you need some old junk removed…

6 02 2010
Ab

I called and asked for Denise once……
hahahahahah

6 02 2010
Kris

That made me piss my pants laughing… No lie!!!

9 02 2010
LiLu

I get bill collecting calls for some chick ALL the time. And my heart always jumps because I think I’ve forgotten to pay something. NOT COOL, world. Not. Cool.

9 02 2010
Kris

Shit like that makes my eye twitch….

18 02 2010
Sinister Dan

Denise is my sister!!

Ah, the hell with her. Great post.

18 02 2010
Kris

Thanks! Give your sister a kick in the ass for me… 😉

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