The Twilight Phone Zone

Of all the phone numbers in the world, I think it would be funny to have the former number of… oh say… a pizza place.

I’m pretty sure that getting phone call after phone call, and having to explain to each caller that this is a PRIVATE RESIDENCE, it would be very tempting to have some fun with it.

Hello?

--Yeah, is this Jocco’s Pizza?

Um…well… sure is! Can I take your order?

--I’d like two large pepperoni pizzas. One with traditional crust, and one deep dish with extra cheese.

Got it… We’ll be there in 30 minutes.

--Wait… don’t you need my address?

Oh... ummmm… I have it right here on my computer screen. It’s uh, linked to your telephone number.

--That must be new.

Yeeeess. (nervous chuckle) Brand new. Technology… gotta love it. See you in 30 minutes.




A pizza place… a waxing salon… anything! Nope. What phone calls have we gotten since we moved in almost six years ago?






Phone calls for a funeral home. (Insert downer music here…)


Turns out that our phone number used to be the one for an area funeral home. And when they were bought out by a larger funeral home chain (a chain? Is that even right? That doesn’t sound right… anyway), their number changed, and we were the lucky lotto phone number winners.

When we first moved in, we received calls several times a day. We have gotten phone calls at all hours, in the middle of the night, during major holidays… all from grieving families, other funeral home directors, emergency rooms, and even Texas DPS.

That pizza place just keeps looking better.

I have been polite each time, assuring people that they have the wrong number, even when they repeat my phone number back to me. “But isn’t this 555-1234?!”.

At times, I’ve even offered to look up the correct number for someone from out of state, because evidently, my phone number is still listed on the internet as the number of this establishment. Every time I get a call, I ask where they got the number. Phone book? Please cross it off. Hospital administrator’s list? Mark that out, please.

I figured I was making my way through every phone list in the country, one call at a time. Until, that is, I got a phone call from a funeral director who told me I’d likely be receiving these calls for years to come.

Me: Um… why?

Him: Well, see… when Great Aunt Mildred pre-purchased her funeral plan, this is the phone number that was listed on the forms. And this is the number listed for all those burial plans for all those people that pre-purchased them. And when the great-nephews and great-nieces pull out the folder of information, this will be the number they call.

Me: Wow. Really?

Him: Yep.

Me: *sigh.

So, I keep fielding phone calls. Granted, the frequency has decreased to only about once a month now, fortunately. And you would think it would be terribly depressing, but I’ve gotten accustomed to it. I try to be polite and sympathetic, and when I get off the phone, I give my family extra squeezes, and thank God for every minute that we have together.




But, seriously, when I finally get a phone call from someone wanting to order a pizza… I am SO ready. ;)