Idiots with telephones

I didn't sleep worth a crap this weekend. Here I am at work groggy as hell and wishing I were somewhere else, but it is the last week of the month, and all must be done or the world ends. Still, I feel like crap so I am putting off the enevitable until the last possible moment. Procrastination is a art of the highest caliber. Anyway the weekend started well enough. I didn't have any flex to claim so I worked the whole day Friday. Then I went home, fixed a simple meal, watched some boob tube. I tend to watch very little through the week and save up for the weekend. Played a couple of online games and went to bed. I was sleeping well, ringed by my vicious attack felines who protect me against burglars, boogeymen, and mice while I sleep. They are like fuzzy hotwater bottles that never cool off, so we were nice and comfy. Then it happened. The phone rang. The phone rang at 4:00 freaking AM. Now, my father had a stroke some years back, my mother isn't in good health, and my wife, who isn't currently living with me, has been in the emergency room twice in the last week or so. My number, due to my profession and the fact that I am a card-carrying, neo-revisionistic hermit. Anywho, noone calls me at 4:00 AM for anything good. So boom, I shot straight up, removed the cpap mask and fought my groggy self over to the phone in a major panic. It's about 3000 yards away on the other side of the room and I am doing my best to avoid squishing cats or tripping over dogs, or breaking toes on furniture. I pick up the offensive noisy device and and mumble hello.

"Who is this?" demands the voice on the other end of the line.

My only defense is that I was half asleep and in a panic. Calling someone, then demanding to know who they are rather than either asking for someone or stating who you are is inexcusably rude. I don't actually like telephones, so I tend to maintain high standards for there use as an good excuse to spend as little time on them as possible. Unfortunately for me the rest of the world adores the damned devices, so it isn't working.

I answered but in my sleep fogged voice the man on the other end of the phone thought I said Jerry. I know because he barked back "Jerry?"

At this point, anger started kicking in because I realized it was more than likely a wrong number. So I snarled back "Who is THIS?" and there was some heat to my voice as the inner probation office shields started falling into place.

Instead of answering his voice got a bit sullen and he asked, "Is this 702-x0xx?" The number is burned into my brain, but I haven't yet looked it up to see who he was calling. His number, a cell by the way, is on my caller id. The number I am not putting here because I don't know who he was trying to call, nor why. Nor do I know who my caller is, or what his situation was. In our 7 sentence conversation, he did not sound intoxicated, so perhaps a ride failed to show or something, but the reason I mentioned this because of the digits he called out only 2 match the number he actually dialed. How the hell do you get only 2 out of 7 numbers right on a cell phone which should have a lighted keypad and a lighted display showing the number you punch in?

My reply to the gentleman when he inquired as to the telephone number he had just called was, "Good God man, you aren't even close."

Saturday was a beautiful day, although I had a headache, but it stormed Saturday night, high wind, thunder, lightning, rain. So I didn't sleep well, then it rained all day Sunday. My yard squishes when you walk on it and the barn is flooded. Sunday night I slept a bit better, but I remember hearing something at some point hitting the house, I thought it was sleet. Then I got cold and had to get up for another blanket.

PS, if you call someone at an ungodly hour, a) have an excellent reason, b) double check the number you dial, c) introduce yourself and don't be rude.