(It’s very late at night, and I am sound asleep when my phone rings.)

Me: *groggily* “H’lo?”

Voice: “[Not My Name]? [Not My Name], it’s Bob.”

Me: “Bob?”

Voice: “Yes. I need to know how you feel about me.”

Me: “What?”

Voice: “Look. I’ve been in love with you for years, and I need to know if you feel the same way.”

Me: “Who is this?”

Voice: *impatiently* “It’s Bob; you know me!”

Me: “It’s 2:30 in the morning. I don’t know who you are, and if you were in love with me, then you’d know better than to call me at this hour.”

Voice: “Look! I just—“

Me: “If you want to talk to me about this, find me and talk to me about it in broad daylight. I don’t love anybody right now. I’m tired. Goodbye.”

(I hung up and went back to sleep. I never got another phone call from the mysterious Bob, and no one ever confessed their hitherto unknown love for me. Seriously, though, there is no confession of love that can’t wait until at least sunrise.)

(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.)

(I work at the scheduling department for annual health visits.)

Me: “Hi. I’m calling to schedule [Patient] for her annual health visit, etc.” *insert spiel*

Customer: “Hello? I’m sorry, I can’t hear you; can you speak up a bit, please?”

Me: *increases volume and speaks a bit slower and louder* “Hi. I’m calling to schedule [Patient] for her annual health visit. May I speak with [Patient], please?”

Customer: “Still can’t hear you.”

Me: “Hello, hello!” *increasing volume to highest level* “Can you hear me now?”

Customer: *laughing out loud* “Sorry, just kidding. This is a voicemail. Just leave a message after the beep, thanks!” *beep*

(D***, she got me, all right.)

A few days ago I accidentally left my phone at home, face up on my bed. I finally got home late in the evening and noticed I had several missed calls and a voicemail.

I listened to the voicemail, and it turned out to be a call-back from a 911 operator! “Hello, this is 911. We have received several hang-ups from this phone number. Please give us a call back at 911 or [local police department’s number].”

I was confused, as I obviously hadn’t been home to make those calls, and there weren’t just one or two calls… There were a total of six calls made throughout the day to 911.

I can only conclude my cats called 911 to report abuse for “never feeding” them!

(My wife and I are chatting with a friend of ours in the living room. We’re all on the couch, talking about my wife’s recent phone upgrade.)

Wife: “When [My Name] calls, it’s this really cutesy ringtone I found about gumdrops and stuff.”

Friend: “Romantic. What about when you call her?”

Wife: *calls me*

My Phone: *long, loud Wookie yell*

([Friend] bursts out laughing. My wife lays her head on my shoulder.)

Wife: “Yup, so romantic. That’s us!”

Me: “Also, when you text my phone goes—” *plays burp tone*

Wife: “Just so romantic!”

(Our friend says we’re made for each other. We agree!)