Somewhere…somewhere in the vast expanse of the United States, somewhere amid the wilting towers in Detroit or the faux-adobe suburbs in California…
Somewhere there is a guy named Mike.
And Mike gave everybody my cell phone number.
At least that’s what I think happened. All I know is that I have been getting call after call from ‘dudes’ and ‘brosephs’ who demand to talk to Mike. Occasionally they ask that I ‘stop foolin’ and ‘just get him’ because it is imperative that they speak. None of them can be convinced that I am not Mike, or Mike’s girlfriend, or Mike’s sister, no matter how many times I tell them. As far as I can tell, this guy Mike recently got a new cellphone number and posted it to his MySpace.
Only he didn’t post his cellphone number, he posted mine. And now every bro on the Internet is calling me and wants to know where the party is at.
One called this morning as Taylor was driving me to work. When I saw that it was an unknown number, I immediately thought that some Realtor was calling me, and if a Realtor is calling me at 8:25 in the morning, there is a problem somewhere.
I answered the phone with my usual pert Realtor greeting:
“Hello, this is Jessica.”
Through the ear piece I heard shrieks and guttural thumping. I was either listening to a house party or a house fire. Either way, there was lots of yelling and a periodic booming that could have been rhythmically snapping timbers or the Black Eyed Peas.
I waited for a moment to see if anyone on the other end was going to say anything, but no. Just more party-noises.
“…hello? This is Jessica.”
“Haha, what?” A slurring voice came through the other end.
“This is Jessica’s phone. Were you trying to contact me?”
“MIKE. Where’s MIKE?”
“I think you have a wrong number.”
“Hahahahaha. Ha! Yeah, can you get Mike for me?”
“Can you hear me? Wrong number. WROOONG. NUUUMBEEER.”
Neither of us said anything for a second. My caller seemed to be yelling to someone in the room with him. Finally, he came back to the phone.
“So, are you going to get Mike?”
I hung up.
I usually have a lot of patience for obnoxious people, but today…today I just didn’t. Today I have a migraine. I probably have the beginnings of an ear infection. I was woken up twice in the middle of the night by noisy sex somewhere in the apartment complex, and I’m not just talking squeaks and thumps. I mean wild screams and “UNG UNG UNG UNG”s and some “OH YEAH BABY RIGHT THERE”s thrown in just for fun. It was like someone set up a porno right outside my bedroom door, turned the volume up to maximum, and then just left it on for half an hour.
HALF AN HOUR.
Dudes, if your lady is making that particular screechy chipmunk-getting-smashed-with-a-hammer noise for half an hour straight, you are a.) doing something very wrong, b.) possibly need to take her to the doctor, or c.) getting the proverbial wool pulled over your eyes by a bad actress.
I was not in the mood for nonsense this morning, so when my cellphone rang again, not five minutes later as I walked into the office, I did my best to put my Problem-Solving face on and keep my temper.
“Hello, this is Jessica.”
“Dude, shut up.”
“No, sorry. Not you. Hang on. No, dude, I’m calling him. Right now, dude! I’m on the phone, man, shut the fuck up!”
“Hello? This is Jessica.”
“Can you get Mike?”
“I don’t know any Mikes.”
“Look, I keep getting calls from you guys for Mike. I am not Mike. I don’t know Mike. This is not the right number.”
“Ohh. Uhhhhhhh. Are you sure?”
“Am I sure? Am I sure? Yes, I’m sure. I’m sure this is my phone number and I’m sure I’ve had this phone number for EIGHT YEARS and I’m sure that during that time, calling this number has NEVER gotten ANYBODY to MIKE. You have the WRONG. NUMBER.”
“Fuck, gurl! Whatever. I just want to talk to Mike. Can you like, patch me through or whatever?”
“Did Mike get a new phone recently?”
“Did Mike get a new phone? When did you get this phone number for him?”
“Like, recently? Have you had it for weeks? Months? Days? Give me an estimate. Did you put it into your phone when Mike posted about getting a new number on Facebook?”
“Man, I dunno! Jesus! C’mon, we just need to know if Mike is coming tonight. Can you just ask him if he’s coming tonight?”
“I DON’T KNOW MIKE.”
“Well, you’re on his phone, though, so like, I dunno.”
I hung up again.
The next time somebody calls, I’m just going to pretend to be Mike. I’ll speak in my normal voice and say, “Yeah, bro, this is Mike. No, seriously, it’s me. This is the way I am now. This is really…this is who I’ve always been, on the inside.”
And then I’ll giggle and say the hormone therapy is almost finished, and would they like to go on a date?