(The spousal consolidation student loan I have with my wife has been sold to a new student loan company, as happens often with loans. I get the paperwork and immediately notice a mistake. Someone has swapped my father’s name for my wife’s name and listed him as cosigner. We all share the same last name, which is being used by both of us at every point in this conversation.)

Representative: “Hello, this is [Representative]. How can I help you?”

Me: “Yes, I noticed that, at some point when my student loan was transferred to your company, someone seems to have mistaken my father’s name, John [Same Last Name] for my spouse’s name, Mary [Same Last Name]. So, you are listing my father as my spouse and cosigner for this loan. As this is a spousal consolidation student loan, only my wife has ever been a cosigner this loan, and every other loan for that matter, so this is an error on your part.”

Representative: “So, what is your father’s name?”

Me: “John [Same Last Name].”

Representative: “No, I need your father’s name, not your spouse’s name.”

Me: “That is my father’s name. I am married to Mary [Same Last Name]. My father is John. That is the problem.”

Representative: “Okay, you’re not married to John?”

Me: “No, that is my father.”

Representative: “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Are you divorced from John?”

Me: “No, again, that is my father. I am married to Mary.”

Representative: *with great confusion in her voice* “So, you’re married to both John… and Mary?” *insinuating a polygamist marriage*

(I’m getting frustrated, so I start to talk slowly and deliberately.)

Me: “No… again… John is my father. At no point have I ever been married to my own father. For the entire length of this loan, I have only been married to one person: Mary.”

Representative: “Okay, I think I understand now. However, in order to change your spouse’s name, I need documentation that you have never been married to John and only married to Mary.”

(I pause for a second while trying to figure out how in the world to do this.)

Me: “So, what kind of documentation do I need to send you to prove that I have never been part of a legally recognized incestuous homosexual polygamist marriage?”

(Long pause…)

Representative: “I’m not sure; I will have to call you back after I speak to the manager in the special issues department. Can I call you later today at [my phone number]?”

(After two months and numerous calls, I finally convinced them that I was not married to my own father and wife at the same time. It’s scary that I owe these people money.)

(I keep getting phone calls from a number I do not recognize, but they leave no messages. After researching the number, I find it is a debt collection agency. I’m pretty sure I don’t have any outstanding debts — at least not bad enough to merit a debt collector — so I call back to find out what is happening.)

Collector: “[Agency], this is [Collector]. May I have your account number, please?”

Me: “Uh, I’m sorry. I don’t have an account number to give. I just keep getting calls from this number.”

Collector: “I can look you up by your social security number.”

Me: “I’m not comfortable giving that out over the phone. Can you use my phone number?”

Collector: “No.”

(Awkward silence.)

Me: “Oh. Uh, okay, then. I guess… Thanks for your help?”

Collector: *hangs up*

(I wait for the number to call again and this time, I answer.)

Me: “Hello?”

Collector: “I need to speak with [Not Me].”

Me: “I’m sorry, but there’s no one here by that name.”

Collector: “Is this [my phone number]?”

Me: “Yes.”

Collector: “I need to speak with [Not Me].”

Me: “You have the wrong number.”

Collector: *annoyed* “I need to speak with [Not Me]. It’s urgent.”

Me: “Well, you’re going to have to try another way because [Not Me] doesn’t own this number; I do.”

Collector: “How can I reach him?”

Me: “I don’t even know who that is, so I have no idea.”

Collector: “[Not Me] needs to call us back immediately.”

Me: “You need to stop calling me.”

Collector: *smugly* “We will stop calling once you pay off your debt.”

Me: “It’s not my debt!”

Collector: “Look. We can work out a payment plan or some kind of wage garnishment, but you need to pay or face legal action.”

Me: “I don’t have to do a thing. I want your supervisor.”

Collector: *hangs up*

Me: “Okay, then.”

(I blocked the number and reported them to the BBB. I doubt it actually did anything, but it made me feel a little better.)

(A number I don’t recognize calls my phone multiple times a day but doesn’t leave a message. The next time they call, I answer.)

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: “Hello, I’m [Caller] calling on a recorded line. May I speak with [Mother-In-Law]?”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. You have the wrong number.”

Caller: *defeated* “I’m sorry to bother you. Your number is in our database as a potential connection. Do you know [Mother-In-Law]?”

Me: “Yes, she’s my mother-in-law.”

Caller: *perks up* “Oh! Um, if you could please verify, I have [phone number] for her contact information. Is that correct?”

Me: “Yes, that’s her number.”

Caller: “Thank you. I’ll remove your name as a contact. Thank you for answering. We’ve been calling all the possible connections listed and no one else has answered except [My Husband] a few minutes ago.”

Me: “That’s my husband, yeah. Did you say we’re listed as contacts for her?”

Caller: “Well, when collection agencies can’t get ahold of the person in question, we have to branch out and look for potential relatives, someone who might be able to shed some light on why we can’t reach the person we want.”

Me: *laughing* “Oh, wait. You’re a collections agency? That’s why. She probably knows your number and is ignoring you.”

Caller: “Yeah, that happens a lot. Could you let her know we’re trying to get in touch with her?”

Me: “I can try, but no promises she’ll do it.”

Caller: “That’s all I ask. Well, I’ll let you go. Thank you again for your help. I promise we won’t call you again.”

Me: “No problem. Good luck!”

(A few days later I received a call from my mother-in-law.)

Me: “Hello?”

Mother-In-Law: “Why the h*** did you tell that collector my number?”

Me: “I didn’t.”

Mother-In-Law: “Well, they said they talked to you!

Me: “Yeah, they did, because you haven’t been answering.”

Mother-In-Law: “That’s none of your business! You’ve embarrassed me!”

Me: “I didn’t do anything. But you’re right: it is none of my business. I shouldn’t have collectors calling me to try to get ahold of you. That is your business and your problem.”

Mother-In-Law: “I’ve half a mind to make you pay these bills since you decided to give them my number.”

Me: “I didn’t give it to them and I’m not paying your bills. If you don’t want collectors calling, set up a payment plan or find a way to pay your bills on time.”

Mother-In-Law: *screeching* “THIS IS YOUR FAULT!”

Me: *hangs up*

(She ignores me whenever we’re together now. I don’t really mind that much.)

(I work in a loan office. My guests are generally very easy going, but occasionally they have fits like this one. Also, while requiring an ID for every loan has been a policy at my company for a while, I am the new manager and apparently the first one to adhere to this policy.)

Me: “How can I help you?”

Guest: “I need to pay off my loan and renew it.”

Me: “No problem. It’ll be $565.56 to pay off, and I’ll need a check and your ID.”

(The guest pays their loan and signs their check, and I begin to fill out the information on it — a service we offer because it’s 2018 and no one really knows how to fill out checks anymore.)

Me: “Awesome, [Guest], and I’ll need your ID, as well.”

Guest: “You need my ID? When did that start? I’m in here all the time and I’m never late. I’ve been coming here for 20 years!”

(He continues about how it’s all but unconstitutional that I ask him for his ID when I’m about to give him $500 and ask him to sign a contract.)

Me: “Sir, have you ever seen me before? Do you know me?”

Guest: “No?”

Me: “And I don’t know you. Besides that, it’s our policy to scan an ID when we issue a loan, every time. It’s been the policy for a while; everyone else should have been asking you, as well.”

Guest: *finally providing ID* “Fine, but why don’t you take ID for payments, as well?”

Me: “A lot of people send in relatives or friends to pay their bills because they’re at work; it would be silly to not let a guest’s husband pay their bill if the guest were at work.”

Guest: “That’s ridiculous. I would never ask anyone to come to pay my bill for me! I’m not even married!”

Me: *ignoring him and trying to process the loan*

Guest: “Don’t let anyone pay my bill!”

Me: “That’s fine. I’ll put a note in your account saying we need ID for every transaction.”

Guest: “Yeah, put a note in my account!”

(Two weeks later:)

Guest: “I need to pay off my loan and renew it.”

(He places the money on the counter, but I don’t make a grab for it.)

Me: “Awesome. I will need your ID, please!”

Guest: “What? I thought you only needed my ID for new loans!” *cue almost verbatim the same rant*

Me: *cutting him off* “Yes, sir, but I have a note in your account, per our last discussion, that you don’t want anyone else paying on your account and you’d like us to ask for ID for every payment!”

Guest: “Oh… That’s stupid; take that out.”

(I laughed after he left; from insanity or hysteria, I don’t really know.)

(My mother has recently divorced my step-father.)

Man: “Hello, this is [Debt Collector Office]. I’m looking for Mr. [Ex-Stepdad].”

Me: *tired of explaining to every single caller* “Sorry, there is no one here by that name.”

Man: “Oh, isn’t this [my phone number]?”

Me: *sighs* “Yes, it is, but the man you are looking for doesn’t live here… anymore.”

Man: “Do you happen to have his contact details? I really need to get a hold of him. You know, he really is in huge debt, and it can cause a lot of problems if I can’t find him.”

Me: *now intrigued, as we never knew in how much financial s*** he actually was in* “Huge debt, you say?”

Man: “Yes, it really needs to be handled! Do you have any idea how to get a hold of him?”

Me: “Well, I don’t know his exact address, but he lives in [City] now. There are two under that name over there, as his father lives there, too, and he has the same first and last name, so you need to have [Ex-Stepdad] Junior. And do me one favour: make sure you find him. I’ll be laughing my a** off if he goes bankrupt.”

Man: “Don’t worry about that. Trust me, this debt is huuuuuge. Thanks a lot for the help! We might be able to find him now!”

Me: “My pleasure!”