We Interrupt This Blog Series To Bring You A Special Report: The Strange Case Of The Identical Phone Number!

“You’re innocent when you dream…” Tom Waits

My dear readers, strange as this sounds I am interrupting my own blog to bring you a developing story that began inside my brain nearly two nights ago as I slept…

It’s kind of funny how sometimes you dream BIG bunches of crazy scenarios and then they never develop into anything...well, at least that’s what happens for most people, but not me, oh no! My dreams always become some form of reality and whether I like it or not, some actually teach me a lesson about madness and etiquette all rolled into one.

It was late Saturday night/early Sunday morning when I finally rolled myself into sleepy-land and into my dream state. I dream like anybody else, except this time, the dreams were a bit more bizarre than normal.

Dream Number One: A Jerry Springer-like television program in which other men of other religions acted as Santa Claus and were invited to talk about their experiences. Knowing a bit about playing the role of Santa Claus in a suburban shopping mall in 1986, I was pleased as punch to blab to all in the universe about my experiences.

Dream Number Two: This one details several officers surrounding a house in the suburbs with their guns drawn. It plays out like every bad hostage drama you’ve ever seen on television or in a film. I remember being there as a witness, when I am mistaken for one of the bad guys and taken into custody. Of course I am released moments later when the cops realize they have the wrong guy and I only look Middle Eastern and I’m not actually Middle Eastern.

Dream Number Three: It plays out like this: I’m in a cab somewhere, traveling to someplace, I get out in the midst of madness and I leave behind my cell phone.

Then reality sets in. Early Tuesday morning, as I am rudely awakened from an otherwise restful slumber, due to the accidental sound-off of my radio alarm clock; I look at my cell phone and I see I’ve missed two calls. One is from my good friend Beatrice and one is from an unknown caller, who has a Texas area code.

It’s approximately 12:30am when I call the unknown Texan back. I ask him why he’s called me. He tells me that he’s calling to tell me that he’s found my lost cell phone. No! Quit! Sweet Jesus! I tell him I haven’t lost my cell phone and he seems bewildered as me and hangs up.

I call Beatrice and we chat for a while about cheese soup and teabagging each other before she tells me she has to go cut the rug and feed her kitty, so I say okay and I finally roll back into sleep-land once more.

It’s now about 5:30am when my radio alarm clock goes off and I zoom in and out of sleep and wake up closer to 6:15am. The “Smart Quiz Question” of the hour has been asked and of course I miss it, as I flip through my CDs to find one that will keep me popping before I walk out the door for the day and into the world.

Fast forward to 9:30am when I happen to look at my cell phone and see I’ve missed a phone call. Turns out as I listen to the message that a fellow named Brad calls me up and asks me; yes you’ve guessed it, “I understand you have my lost cell phone.”

I am beside myself at this point, because I still don’t know what is going on until I call this guy up and he tells me that he lost his cell phone which just happens to have my same telephone number.

I tell him that I’ve had my phone number for nearly three years, so it’s impossible. He tells me that he’s had this number for six weeks, a Blackberry, you know, one of those fancy-schmancy phones that not only takes calls, but fetches your email all at the same time, oh to dream! But anyway, Brad’s at a convention in San Diego, California and he’s a sales rep for a computer software company in Chicago, for a company headquartered in Toronto, Canada.

At first I am very understanding and sympathetic toward Brad, but when I let a buddy know of the situation, she suggests I call my wireless phone service to let them know and also to make sure that nothing from his phone is charged to my phone account, so I do.

Three phone company representatives later, one explains to me that it might be an error on the part of the company that issued Brad’s phone; in other words it’s a Canadian phone number, with a local area code.

“How can that be?” I ask the guy. He can’t figure it out either. Along the way I have asked for a written apology from the phone company, but all three phone representatives tell me the same thing, “I apologize for the inconvenience,” nothing more and nothing less. Big corporate companies that do nothing but apologize for inconvenience and toss it back in our laps like a hot potato or a bad disease.

I hate big business.

Meanwhile, Brad has called me a few more times and I realize that my life has to go on, whether or not he has my phone number. When I speak to him again, I suggest to him that we have a duel and that the loser should change the phone number in question. He doesn’t seem amused.

Then another one of his pals calls me and doesn’t leave a message, so I call him back and I ask him if this is about the lost phone. He says yes and asks me if I have it! I laugh and tell him, “No, you’re calling my cell phone which I’ve had for three years,” to which the guy who identifies himself as a co-worker of his, says, “Well I really could care less if he finds his phone or not, I was just checking” and hangs up.

With friends like him, who needs enemies?

Since this afternoon, I received one more additional call, probably from another one of Brad’s friends. I suspect I will continue to receive more.

This is really starting to get annoying…

And now we return you to you’re regularly scheduled blog. “Tales From The Desert” will resume tomorrow as planned.