Wrong number

I wasn’t going to publish anymore posts today, but then I broke down in laughter tears (and piss and snot and other traditionals). This is a traditional Signe-story, it starts in the 1600th century and will eventually get to the point. I have been pretty good at avoiding them thus far, but alas.

When we moved to Cairns in June 2011, we had to get a landline-phone to get internet (!!!) and the only companies we could choose from were Telstra and Telstra – oh yes friends, they have monopoly here (I know – Cairns really isn’t regional Australia, it is remote Australia). I have 100 million things to say about Telstra and I have decided that my first sequel (when I feel it is time to do one) will be on my relationship with service providers. I say this because I don’t want any comments like ‘what did you expect with Telstra?’

Anyway. Telstra gave us a phone number – weeeee. The less weeee part of this phone number was that it had only been out of circulation for approximately 3 nanoseconds. So we got one bazillion phonecalls in the genre:

  • “Can I talk to Mrs Savage please?”
  • “Can I talk to Paul please?”
  • “Can I talk to Cindy please?”

CINDY SAVAGE? I instantly fell in LOVE with that name – if the people who were calling weren’t so nice and polite I would pretend to be her on the phone. And it would be so easy – people often think I’m Cindy… I say “Seena speaking, Hello” when I pick up the phone: Seena Cindy, same, same if you are slightly hearing impaired. But I have restrained myself and instead we have had a lot of fun with Cindy Savage in the privacy of our own home.

So today the phone rings, having the flash thought that it may be for Cindy Savage, I pick up, say the regular and then the voice says: “Oh hello, can I speak to your mother?”

“HA HA HA HA HA HAHA ha ha ha ha ha ha *hiks* (spontaneous snot running out of my nose) ha ha ha sorry, you have the  ha ha ha ha wrong number”

It was a combination of two things:

  1. it has been 23 years since anyone has asked me on the phone, if they could speak to my mother. She lives on the other side of earth and my first spontaneous thought was to say “hang on, I’ll just go and get her”
  2. Cindy Savage has a mother! (whom we now need to name, ’cause it aint Paul – we think)

PS the lady who called was really polite (a classic Cindy Savage caller) she started laughing and said, “my apologies, have a good day” – I think I managed to snort the snot back up my nose…


2 thoughts on “Wrong number

  1. Reminds me of the Jehova witness that wanted to talk to my parents after I had refused him at the door. I was 23 and had just managed to put my baby girl to sleep.
    I said:
    “Certainly. You’ll have to drive for a couple of hours first, but by all means feel free to do so.”

    • Ha ha ha ha ha – did you know that in Australia, Jehovas Witnesses writes personal letters to the people in their neighbourhood? We received handwritten letters by the bucketload when we lived in Brisbane. I almost felt sorry for the poor young people who had to spend their days writing letters to people. But hey! They get saved!

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