summer paisley

Wednesday, August 17, 2011


Let me preface this with the incredibly overused disclaimer of "I swear I'm not a bad person." OK now that I've lied to you, let me tell my story.

Back in 2004 when I moved into my house, I got a landline phone (I know, how primative). It was a requirement for my alarm system, which I set off more times than I can count, but that's besides the point. I feel like I got my money's worth that way. So apparently, the lady "Stephanie" who had my phone number before me was not very responsible. She didn't pay her phone bill (which almost limited me on calling long distance. Don't they know I gotta call my psychic?), insurance claims, etc etc. Guess which lucky lady got allllll her phone calls at all hours of the day for years? The one who pays her bills and the collectors do not believe is actually not "Stephanie". I finally started telling them to "come take my car!" and "take me for what I have left!" and all sorts of other offers I personally found hilarious. I guess they never tried to do any of these things because they kept calling and calling.

Finally, 3 years later, I got my chance to come face to face with Stephanie. See, when I said she was irresponsible, I really meant it. Her dog got loose at the apartment complex where she lives, which happens to be the same road my subdivision is located, less than half a mile. I jumped on the chance to introduce myself and personally let her know that if the calls kept coming in and waking me up early in the morning (seriously, weren't even in double digits, and I am NOT ok with that) that I was going to take her to court...or something that sounded lawyer-ish so she would take me seriously. I jump in the car, fly down the road, and park at the pool. By this time, my phone has rang at least 3 more times because apparently, no one cares if this witch gets her dog, Popcorn, back. So when I pull up, it is to my great disappointment that it is a kid carrying a white puffy dog away from the pool area, not a witch named Stephanie. This would keep a normal person from yelling, but not a semi-crazy one like myself. The conversation went something like this:

"Hey kid! Kid with the dog! Is your mom Stephanie?"
"Uhh, yeah..."
"Alright, then this message is for her: She has 48 hours to contact everyone she owes money to and let them know her new phone number...If I don't quit getting her collection calls in 48 hours, she's going to be visited by the police...because now I know where you live. It's called communications harassment and I will take it seriously!"
"Um, which number? Do you mean xxx-xxx-xxxx?"
"Damn, how many numbers has she used to evade being reminded she's avoiding bills?! YES THAT ONE!"

So I thought that was very generous of me. However, when I get home, my phone rings again immediately. It's a woman who had called about the dog just a few minutes prior to me leaving, asking if I just came down to the pool. I said yes. She then proceeded to tell me that I had no right talking to the children like that and that I hurt her granddaughter's feelings. Rewind: where was there a little girl? Oh, she was a bystander she informs me. So I also take it upon myself to be exceptionally generous again and tell her that if her granddaughter's feelings were hurt from a conversation that didn't even involve her, that she needed to be calling a psych, not me. When she asked for an apology, I told her that communications harassment applied to her, too, and that I am not too tired to take down a granny that day. Magically, the calls stopped. For that day.

A couple days later, I was napping on my couch in the sunshine following graduation from a prestigious university that I attended for 4 years. I deserve this. However, it was so rudely interrupted by a phone call...from a local pet grooming location. The lady greeted me with a kind, "Hello Stephanie!" and proceeded to tell "Stephanie" that she forgot to tell the groomer how she wanted Popcorn cut that day. Without hesitation, I replied, "shaved." She hesitated, said ok and hung up. I smirked and started to nod back off to sleep...then my phone rang again. It was the actual groomer. He thought the receptionist got it wrong that I wanted Popcorn shaved and I said, no, that's correct. Shaved.

You know what's funny? A woman that can't pay her medial bills will gladly dish out close to $40 to have her dog shaved. Good thing I'm not the one getting the phone calls anymore. For some reason, the phone never rang for "Stephanie" again.

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