Tuesday, August 28, 2007

On wrong numbers

On wrong numbers

I have, in all these years as a bona fide grown-up, always seemed to get second-hand phone numbers.

When I first got my own place in Reading, British Telecom kindly granted me a number that was previously used by a driving school.

"Hello, is that the L-of-a-Scary-Ride driving school?"

"I'm afraid they've got a new business number. It's 0800 696969"

Became:

"No, piss off."

Became:

"Yes. Yes it is. What time would you like us to pick you up?"

After several months of this madness, we complained to BT and got a new number. It was, fuck my luck, just one digit removed from Pizza Hut, a digit fat-fingered spackers found with unnerving precision on a Friday night.

"Awight mate - issh that Pizza Hut?"

"Sorry mate, their number's 407820. You dialled it wrong."

Became:

"No. Piss off."

Became:

"Yes. Yes it is. Can I take your order please?"

Of course, it couldn't last. We moved house and got a new number.

"Hello, is that Abbey Removals?"

*sigh*

OK, said British Telecom, our bad. Have a new number.

"Is that the RSPB?"

"Why yes. Yes it is. And today's special is buy a duck, get a free grebe. And an egg. We like egg."

"You're not the RSPB at all, are you?"

"No. Sorry. Do you still want egg?"

"You're strange."

*click*

So sweet, the sound of silence.

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