Most Inconvenient Calls and Text Messages on the Wrong Number

Posted on April 21, 2017 by resourcefulman

We’ve requested your most bizarre, inconvenient calls and text messages with the wrong number, and heck you delivered. These tales of “hey” include everything from ignorant callers to tactless texting, playful responses to toilet phones, and everything in between.

The one with … um, a device for personal pleasure from iseedeaddaleks :

Several years ago, I received a voicemail from a guy who congratulated a woman on her new job. The whole time he seemed INCREDIBLY uncomfortable, and in the course of the message it became clear that she must have got a job at a vibrator company, or Viagra headquarters, or something like that … It was a wonderful example of someone discussing the obvious.

The One with the Weird Thing, from Tortri_ :

The one with the player Greg, ad infinitum :

I moved and was assigned a new number, and it quickly became clear that the person who had this number before me was something like Lothario. Over the course of several months, I received calls – often several a night – from women who were very uncomfortable hearing a woman answering the phone. Most of them just hung up when I told them that Greg was no longer on that number, but some became quite hostile, apparently convinced that I was deliberately hiding Greg from them.

The best was a voicemail I got on Christmas Day that said something like, “Look, bitch, I don’t know who you think you are, but this is also Greg’s house, and if you don’t make him call me RIGHT NOW, I’ll call to the police. “

The one with the boys in blue, from the ichatespam :

I live in Dallas, Texas. A few years ago, Dallas only had one area code, 214. Eventually, they expanded and added a second area code, 972, and thus they began to require 10 digits instead of 7 digits. If you forgot to dial the area code and just dialed the last 7 digits, the choice was random if you connect to the number 214 or 972.

It was around the same time that I received my first cell phone. My recently issued cell phone number used 972 as the area code, but the exact same number for area code 214 matched the Dallas Police Department … you can imagine the number of interesting calls I received and would have to give them that they first had to dial the area code 214.

The one with the kind reverend, from laggyNGroovy :

For several months, I received calls at random times of the night to speak to a “Reverend Someone.” They had a problem and needed the help of a kind reverend. I patiently explained that this was my number, could someone update the number he was giving out … Just please stop this. After about 9 months, I was finally able to stop it on my own. On the next call, which I received in the middle of the night and asked to speak to a “Reverend Someone,” I replied:

“Didn’t you hear?”

Subscriber: “What do you hear?”

“They took him for extortion.”

Calls stopped after that night. I think the church list number has been corrected in the burning vine.

The one with Sharna , from TheRevanchist :

Another wrong number was repeated. Usually at one or two in the morning one man cries and asks Sharn to return to him. In that house, after 10:00 pm, no one ever answered the phone, so the next day we listened to this guy, laughing intensely.

Until we got a message from what sounded like an early morning radio show where the guy tried to meet / reconcile with Sharna as he really missed her a lot. Then we had the best laugh!

The one with the pseudo-professor from Mixeddrinks :

I got a message from someone who thought I was her professor, a question about an article they should write for me … So, I answered:

“[Person’s name], the questions you are looking for an answer demonstrate that you understand the assignment well, and for that reason, you automatically get A. I will answer all your questions in class next week, now go to (name of restaurant nearby with campus) and celebrate. “

The man was very grateful and believed. She thanked me and mentioned that she really enjoyed what she learned in class, etc. I was going to play a trick on this again, but I felt bad and I wrote to her:

“You got the wrong number, sorry, I can’t give you the real A. But if you ever get your professor’s real number, I’ll be happy to call her and give you gibberish.”

After reading this, she called me and I told her the truth, she was a little sad.

The one with unwanted sensations, from Marc Alvarado :

I received a very sad message from a woman who thought she was texting a friend after the first round of chemotherapy. She said that she was fine, but did not intend to continue treatment and that she was truly afraid of death. I expressed my condolences and prayers to her and encouraged her to contact her friend again. She replied that she was sorry for confusing me, but that she appreciated my concern. I hope she’s okay …

The one with the Royal Flush, from Andy Affleck :

One day I got a voicemail (it’s still on my phone because it’s too nice to delete) in which the woman is hard to hear, then she suddenly gets louder and says, “George! George! George! ” “What?” “Can you understand that? I dropped my phone down the toilet. Can you figure it out? “

The one with Google Voice Translator, by Jackal Frost :

I recently got a new number and received two calls from Mexico. I don’t speak Spanish so I have no idea what they were talking about, but despite the country code and all, Google Voice valiantly rushed forward trying to translate them into English. The results are pretty funny:

“Hey, by the way, this is about the idea that I started picking up one of my cars, and you can help me face it all day. I watch with my father. Hey satish, I’m going after Okala, looking for greetings for me. This is an announcement from a work phone. I’m listening to “.

“Honestly, I really hoped that this reminder would make you know what the hell it was. I love ringing at me again. I see langol. I assume you have Italy. everyone has a problem with your pool. Good? I’m trying to dance.

Whoever’s got the porn scam, from Cheve :

An Indian guy (based on an accent) scolded me for taking his money on some porn site (I’m not even kidding). Apparently he paid £ 5 on some obscure site and then found my (new) number there. I found it too funny to hang up, the last thing said was “Give me my porn bastard !! I hate you!!”.

I swear it’s all true. Moreover, this is not an old story, it happened at the end of 2016!

The one with the conspiracy theory, from the SInghwada Dheet :

Back in 2008, I received a voicemail and later an answering machine.

“Dad knows, man. He knows shit is on the wane. Sell all your shares, just sell them dude. “Click.

18 months later:

“You sold your shit like I told you? Manny and Much didn’t, and now they’re done – Daddy screwed them up. ” Click.

These two still drive me crazy. Maybe Dad knew about the market crash? IF he did, what did he do with Manny and the Flies?

The one with Ginko Biloba, from Clint :

One day I had the following conversation on the phone with what I believe were women working in the school office who didn’t realize that my answering machine was on …

Woman 1: Not necessarily for life?

Woman 2: I guess I just think, think, think, brides, don’t they always think about people in the past?

Woman 1: Yeah, yeah.

Woman 2: I think you know that in some ways people like James, ha, I could talk to him for hours, I just don’t … well, Will and I don’t talk for hours, really never.

Woman 1: But you didn’t want to fuck Will, mmm, James.

Woman 2: No, it’s true.

Woman 1: But you wanna fuck Will?

Woman 2: Well, I don’t really like sex, it doesn’t bother me.

Woman 1: Isn’t it?

Woman 2: No, I completely lost my sex drive.

Woman 1: I’m choking on it.

Woman 2: Just totally …

Woman 1: I wonder why?

Woman 2: I don’t know.

Woman 1: Try ginkgo biloba. Improves blood circulation, stimulates your pieces …

Woman 2: Great.

Woman 1: It is really good for your heart because it stimulates blood circulation and causes tingling sensations.

Woman 2: Maybe this is what I need to do …

The one with the love boat, from the fire above :

“Listen, idiot, I’m on your boat right now, and if you don’t come in the next 10 minutes, it will go into the water, and I tell you, it will drown. This. WILL. Sink. Don’t you get it? Come here yesterday. Love you.”

I guess it was this dude’s brother or something … He called from a blocked number, which went straight to my voicemail and didn’t leave a number, so I had no way to save this poor boat.

The one where the little old woman is looking for Rose, from Jamin :

Earlier at 10:30 every Sunday I got a call from an old lady who wanted to know if her friend Rose would like to have lunch. Every weekend she woke me up (on Saturday I always went to bed late, I was in my 20s). Every weekend I told her that she had the wrong number. Every weekend she was very embarrassed and apologized. Every weekend she promised to make it right next time. Then next week the call will be back.

By and large, there are worse ways to wake up on Sunday morning, and she looked like a very sweet woman, so I kind of agreed that this was what was going to happen in my life. About a year later, we became friends with a guy who takes the elevator in the office with you every day. You don’t know each other, but you seem to know. Each of you is heading to a different place, you just drive by and wish each other well.

She eventually promised that her son would program Rose’s number into her phone and the calls stopped. I still have the same number, but I haven’t heard from her in years. I miss her…

The one with a surprise visit from GE :

A girl called me and asked, “Is that Matt?” I told her she had the wrong number. She called again and asked for Matt, I told her again that it was not the right number. On the third call, I said, “Hey, how are you?” and went as if I were Matt. She asked if I was at home, I replied: “Yes.” She asked if she could come up. I said, “Yes, come in.”

Always curious how this turned out for her and Matt.

Whoever had a questionable arms deal , from notinvitedback :

My phone fell out of my bag at Dupont Circle, and the guy who found it used my number well for five days or so before I got a new one. I still occasionally get calls and text messages meant for him.

Most memorable was a series of photographs of seven different pistols and one semi-automatic weapon lying on someone’s beige duvet with the caption, “Tell him which one he wants at different prices.”

The one with three names starting with the same letter is from hagrok :

Years ago, I got a pretty promising message from a number that isn’t in my contact list. I showed it to my duty manager and said, “Haha, checked, someone sent a dirty message to the wrong number.” The manager looked at the number and said, “I think this is the boss’s number.” I checked the number on his phone … Yeah, that was our boss. Feed in hysterical laughter.

The boss said the message was for his wife, whose name begins with the same letter as mine. It turned out – when he was fired for sexual harassment with the official guise of not doing his job – it was actually for another store manager, whose name also began with the same letter as mine.

The Morning Ventilated One by Evil Closet Monkey :

When I was in college (mid-90s), at 4 am a very distraught young woman called me. Answering “Hello?” in a weak, half-asleep voice, she replied curiously, calling my name. When I answered “Yes,” it was enough for her that she had the right person.

Thus began a five-minute explanation of the worst day of this young woman’s life. For too long I could not remember everything that happened to this poor girl, but I do remember how an elastic band got into her hair at some point during the day …

She paused long enough to ask me if I was listening at least once. I confirmed that I was only to face new hardships of the day.

Finally, she stopped long enough. “I am very sorry that all this happened to you today. Sounds awful “. I said.

“But …” I finally woke up enough to trigger a coherent thought. “Who is this!?”

“UNDERSTAND!” she exclaimed. “You don’t even know who it is! You do not care! She hung up quickly.

The one with Mrs. Smith and her friend Patrick of Cuffin :

It was a few years ago, I had just entered my old apartment after a hard day at work. Pants, shirt, tie are removed right in the lobby – I am wearing socks, boxers and a T-shirt. I hit the play button on my answering machine and go poop with the door open. I have 24 messages, which is definitely a lot. They are all this little old lady, and she keeps repeating “hello. Hey? Hey! Hey? Patrick? “And hangs up the phone. All 24 times. Then I noticed the timestamps. They were all 3-4 minutes apart and started about an hour before I got home. My name is not Patrick … and I recognized the voice!

So I call my sweet old neighbor “Mrs. J. Smith,” an 83-year-old widowed librarian, and I ask if everything is all right. She immediately asks if I’m at home.

“Are you home now !?” she demands.

“Yeah, I just came home and did your business …”

“I’ll get up now!” and claps the phone like it was a bad movie.

So I’m going crazy – I drop the loaf in my panties with the door open. I quickly wipe, rinse, and spray, and then I run to put on my clothes, but … they are gone. My pockets were hastily emptied onto my mail desk, my jacket, shirt and pants were nowhere to be found, and my lousy, hard, dirty sneakers were gone. I’m dumbfounded.

Then the door opens and a half-naked “Mrs. Smith ”, wrapped but not tied, only in a red silk kimono. She shudders when she sees me, walks by and walks into my guest bedroom. There she starts looking – under the bed, in the closet, she opens this old futon that I had – all the time shouting “Patrick!?” Then she grabs a chair, walks into my closet, opens up my climbing space, lowers a small rope ladder (which I didn’t know about) and climbs up. I hear footsteps over my bedroom (the other end of the apartment) and then nothing. Minutes pass – and nothing. I go to sweat when I hear a little clearing of his throat from the ceiling …

“Cal, can you help me down the stairs?”

Looking up, I see Mrs. Smith’s eyes through the air vent. We meet at the stairs and I help her down.

“How about tea? And some lemon bread? My place, 10 minutes, and I’ll explain everything. “

Looks like Patrick was Mr. Smith’s best friend as a child. And Mrs. Smith had a relationship with both him and her boyfriend, but they couldn’t choose which one to keep. So she left both. And she was a classic pervert who loved to be looked at. I apparently moved into her old boyfriend’s apartment, which she and Patrick had already rented. So when I asked her to keep the key in case of emergency, she thought it meant that she had a free pass … In the two years that I lived there, she met strange men … in my bed ( she obviously bought copies / changed my sheets so it wasn’t too bad) and he looked. Then, when they finished, they went down the stairs and ran into old people again.

This time, her gentleman had to wait for his little blue pill to take effect. Hot and heavy foreplay led to an early arrival, so he left and she was left unfulfilled. So she went down to her room to wait for Patrick, who never showed up. He fell asleep out of boredom, and woke up only when I played back the messages and, apparently, “uttered a loud groan when he pooped.” He then tried to sneak away to return to his wife, but since his clothes were in Mrs. Smith’s apartment, he stole my clothes to return home.

The next day, my suit was returned, dry-cleaned and ironed, with two new Armanis in my size, a check for $ 10,000, and a request for confidentiality. Which I have kept to this day.