I told my mom yesterday that I’m pretty sure my phone’s ringer doesn’t work. No one is calling me. I get text messages just fine, but no calls.
Today, just 5 minutes ago, my phone rang and a number displayed I didn’t recognize. A company! Calling off my resume!!
I cleared my throat and in my best professional voice (trying to sound as if I’m not sitting here in my feetie snowman jammies), answered, “This is Jammie J.” A nice male voice said, “Oh, sorry, I think I have the wrong number.”
Two seconds later, it rings again, same number displayed, so I answered, “Hi, I think you still have the wrong number…” This time he argued with me, “No, I’m looking for Donna. Donna Legand? Perhaps she’s a co-worker or something?”
I looked at the cat on my lap named Tug, over at the cat snoozing contentedly in his cat bed named Snug. I responded to the man, “This is my cell phone and I have no co-worker named Donna. I’m pretty sure you have the wrong number…” I almost finished with, “But if you’re looking for a kick-ass executive assistant, I can be your girl for the right price!” But I didn’t. Hard sells to wrong number callers? Really not my thing. Although in this economy, maybe it should be.
At least I know my phone rings…