The Wrong Number

The phone rang and pulled me out of the world of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norell, a place rather difficult to leave. I didn't recognize the number on the caller id, which signifies nothing much.

It was a collect call from the Howard County Detention Center. Suddenly the call became a moral dilemma. I couldn't quite make out who was supposed to be calling. It sounded like Snoop Dogg but the chances of him being in the Center and calling me seemed rather low.

Should I accept the charges? I know people who would say that is a very dangerous thing to do. But what if I didn't and this poor fellow in the other end of the line thought whoever he was calling no longer cared enough about him to take his calls?

I pressed "One to add ridiculously high charges to your account" and was connected to a young gentleman who asked "Hey what's up?" in a weary voice.

I asked the fellow for his name and he replied "Sbong" or something of that ilk and then I explained that he had the wrong number, making sure that he was aware that this number is only six months old and he could have dialed an old number for a friend who has a new one.

Surprisingly he was not much down spirited by his error. He inquired as to my marital status and expressed much satisfaction and joy when I recovered from my surprise at the question and said No, I don't have a husband. He said I sounded beautiful and I decided that when he asked the inevitable next question, did I have such a thing as a boyfriend, I had better say yes so I did and he hung up much disappointed.

It all struck me as rather odd. Shouldn't he have more on his mind than flirting with any woman who happens to accept his charges? But perhaps in a larger sense that is really what life is all about. Trying to find some woman who will accept your charges and keep on listening to you in times of trouble.