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Diaryland is calling.....
Wrong Number, Please, Get Me Red On The Line
03/13/2002 - 9:01 p.m.
Gahhh.
Why is it that I get so many filthy wrong numbers? What did I do to deserve this? Why do drunken yoyos call me at 2:30 in the morning looking for their girlfriends, then hang up without apologizing when I tell them they have the wrong number?
Why do women call for their female friends, hear my male voice on the answering machine, and leave messages anyway, asking them to call back as soon as they get in?
Why do guys speaking in foreign tongues call me, leave long long incomprehensible messages, and end them with "or I'll kill myself" in English?
Why does the phone company call my office number and leave me messages about how they need me to reconfigure some of their equipment, cuz they think I work for them?
Why, when I moved in to my last apartment, did I have a phone number that was also mis-printed on business cards as a bank's fax machine number?
Why, two apartments ago, was my number misprinted as the contact number for a gay men's discussion group in the local gay folks' newspaper?
Why, when an idiot called me at 3 in the morning looking for some kind of community outreach center where an old friend of his worked, and I told him he had the wrong number, did he call me back 3 more times because, as he said, "Why should I take your word for it that I have the wrong number?"
Why do I get called at midnight by high school kids who are desperately trying to do their own Jerky Boys-style prank call, but they stink at it, and they stupidly use names from the Jerky Boys cast of characters besides, so I know what they're doing?
Why, when I had a message that said, "Unless you're calling for Red, or you recognize my voice, or you know that the person you are looking for is visiting me, that is to say Red, then don't leave a message," did people leave messages for all sorts of people, none of whom were named Red?
Why?
Why?
Why?
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In other news, in the last couple days, I have seen two references to what I thought was a pretty obscure Bill Nelson song, from his Red Noise album, called "Don't Touch Me I'm Electric." That's a little odd, but just 3 days ago I listened to that record, which is super freaky whiz bizarre. One of the refs was in Rudey's diary, and the other was in The Top Secret Diary of Mary Chen. Rudey titled her diary "Don't Touch Me I'm Spermicidal," and Mary has a thing on her website about getting shocks every single day, which has to really be a drag. I dunno - maybe that's not so weird - maybe I'm just starved for stuff to write about. I mean, filth, wrong numbers?
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In still more news, I had a dream in which a Diarylander played a significant role, as she was the Air Traffic Controller who diverted my flight to Salt Lake City. This was odd. What was even odder was that in the dream logic, the Air Traffic Controller spoke to the passengers directly, and I recognized her voice, which was really odd, because, you know, I've never heard her voice.
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And in even more news, The Steve Band has a show coming up in May. Now we have to learn some songs.
Steve doesn't know yet, though, so no one tell him. It's a surprise.
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Oh yeah - one last thing - rudey is one hot sexy bitch.
Music to misdial by:
John Cale - "Leaving It Up To You" (Seducing Down The Door)
"And the radio, what about the radio? They'd be listening to me giving it to you."
See what I did there? I went and moved my diaryring to a rings and reviews page!
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