A few minutes ago my cellphone rings. My caller ID does not ID the number so I don't know if it's someone I know or not. I answer, despite not knowing who could be calling me at 11:30pm, because I am old and unhip and uncool and nobody calls that late unless it's an emergency. What if it's an emergency?
Teenage Girl: Um... is Sara there?
Me: Sorry, you have a wrong number.
TG: Oh... sorry. -click-
A few minutes later, it rings again, still no ID. I answer again strictly for the potential pleasure of telling off some annoying kid who calls numbers late at night without being sure they are correct.
TG, Possible a Different One: (largely unintelligible declaration about staying away from her boyfriend or she will, and I quote, "smack me.")
Me, in a slightly hostile tone that probably just sounded peevish: Hi, I have no idea who you are or why you are calling me. (Pretty snappy, eh?)
If she calls back, I will let it go to voicemail so she can listen to my non-teenage, unhip muppety voice identify myself by my first name and tell her to leave a message. I'm hoping that this ends the matter, but if it does not, I hope at least to capture her number so I can initiate a series of irritating crank calls.
When did I get to be such a dork?