So we are rolling the phone plan over @ work into a different provider.
I was offered the option of picking a new #, or sticking with the # I had. I chose the former, because about once a week I'd get someone else's voicemail: generally it was a woman, speaking in Spanish, asking regarding a housecleaning position. My Spanish is not good enough to permit me to coherently tell her there is nobody at this phone who wants a housekeeper, so she calls back.
Over.
And Over.
So yes, new phone number! say I, thinking that this will be my ticket to unlimited bliss and freedom from Senora Gonzales calling at 4 PM to ask me about the housekeeper position in the house I don't own. Curiously, while some of the folks have been able to grasp 'I'm sorry, there's no housekeeping position available at this phone number'- not a one of these has been able to tell me where she got the damn #.
New phone. It's too small. It's freakishly small. It's mutated-pigmy-chihuahua small. I'll put it this way: it has a little leash on it, that you can put fingers through while you're using it so you don't drop the thing?
The leash is nearly twice as long as the phone. And is just barely big enough to surround my whole hand.
And.
I've already gotten voicemail for a Tracey from her brother who wanted her to know that the book she wanted him to pick up doesn't exist.
Sent within the last 1/2 hour.
Fuck!!!
I was offered the option of picking a new #, or sticking with the # I had. I chose the former, because about once a week I'd get someone else's voicemail: generally it was a woman, speaking in Spanish, asking regarding a housecleaning position. My Spanish is not good enough to permit me to coherently tell her there is nobody at this phone who wants a housekeeper, so she calls back.
Over.
And Over.
So yes, new phone number! say I, thinking that this will be my ticket to unlimited bliss and freedom from Senora Gonzales calling at 4 PM to ask me about the housekeeper position in the house I don't own. Curiously, while some of the folks have been able to grasp 'I'm sorry, there's no housekeeping position available at this phone number'- not a one of these has been able to tell me where she got the damn #.
New phone. It's too small. It's freakishly small. It's mutated-pigmy-chihuahua small. I'll put it this way: it has a little leash on it, that you can put fingers through while you're using it so you don't drop the thing?
The leash is nearly twice as long as the phone. And is just barely big enough to surround my whole hand.
And.
I've already gotten voicemail for a Tracey from her brother who wanted her to know that the book she wanted him to pick up doesn't exist.
Sent within the last 1/2 hour.
Fuck!!!
Usted finalmente tiene una cuenta viva del diario. ¡Muy agradable!
(Mi madre todavía no puede conseguir que americano arrogante para contestarle las llamadas sobre el trabajo de la economía doméstica.)
I will be a wealthy man when I invent a way to stab someone in the face over the internet.
All Hail Babelfish!
WTF? Just delete the damn thing!
What kind of phone do you have, btw?
People tend to complain that Kyoceras and Samsungs are impossible to dial 'cause they're so damn small and the buttons are so tiny.
Er. I'm tech-geeking again.
God knows we spend enough time doing it.
But Nextel is evil. So who knows?
I had some guy, used to call us in Denver, and demand to talk to Tracy, "I know that bitch is there! I know what she's doing with you!" The only Tracy I ever knew was back in PA.
So, to sum up, I feel your pain.