Unfiltered Story #57006

(When I was growing up, my mom and I often got wrong-number phone calls for some guy named Pedro. Based on some of the questions the callers asked and the odd hours of the day at which they called, we think Pedro might have been a drug dealer, but we never bothered to find out for sure. None of these callers seemed to understand when we told them they had the wrong number, even though we were speaking the same language, so I decided to have some fun with them.)

Me: Hello?

Caller #1: Is Pedro there?

Me: Hang on, I’ll see if I can find him.

(I set the phone down for about five minutes.)

Me: You still there?

Caller #1: Yeah.

Me: Okay. I haven’t found him yet. Hang on.

(I set the phone down for about 10 minutes.)

Me: Still there?

Caller #1: Yeah! What’s taking so long.

Me: I can’t seem to find the guy. Hang on; I’ll keep checking.

(I put the phone down for almost 20 minutes because I got distracted by a TV show.)

Me: You still waiting for Pedro?

Caller #1: I’ve been waiting forever! Where IS he?!

Me: I have no idea, but he’s definitely not here. Wrong number. *click*

(A few days later.)

Me: Hello?

Caller #2: Is Pedro there?

Me: Oh, man, were you his friend? I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but he was in a car accident.

Caller #2: WHAT?!

Me: Yeah, it was pretty bad. Two trucks on the freeway changed lanes at the same time and crunched his car between them. Paramedics got him out and rushed him to the hospital, but they’re pretty sure he’s not going to make it.

Caller #2: He’s… He’s in the hospital? Where?

Me: I don’t know. I’ve been home all day. Hey, if he dies, do you think I could have his stereo?

Caller #2: … *click*

(And later the same day, I get this call from a woman who did not sound happy to begin with, and I think I might have gotten Pedro in trouble for this one.)

Me: Hello?

Caller #3: Yeah, I need to talk to Pedro.

Me: Uh… Well… He doesn’t want to talk to anybody right now.

Caller #3: That’s to bad. I need to talk to him. Is he there?

Me: Uh… Yeah… He came home a few minutes ago.

Caller #3: So go get him! Put him on the phone!

Me: I can’t.

Caller #3: Why not?

Me: He’s… busy.

Caller #3: Doing what? What could be SO important that he won’t talk to me?

Me: Well, he came home with some blond chick, and they went straight for the bedroom. Sounds like they’re having a furniture-moving party in there, for all the thumping and shouting I hear. I think she’s his new girlfriend.

Caller #3: No she’s not! I’M his girlfriend!

Me: Oops! *click*

(We didn’t get quite so many phone calls for Pedro after that.)