How Not to Deal with Strangers Who Think You're Involved with Their Husband

It's a Saturday night, and since the two friends I have in Houston decided to go to a frat party in Austin for the weekend (you think I'm joking, being that I'm over two years out of college, right? But I'm not. Oh no, I am not.) I am decidedly bored enough to write a blog and expose myself as the loser that I am. That's a damn long sentence right there, especially for a grammar Nazi like me! Guess I'm getting pretty wild 'n' out tonight after all.

As I've mentioned before, I don't understand why hotels still offer wake-up calls. There's the alarm clock RIGHT THERE NEXT TO THE BED. And also, cell phones. Those do the trick right good. I wouldn't make such a stink about this except that due to extreme social isolation I've found myself wanting a good bed time story, the old fashioned way, and really, would that be such a risky trade in services? Out with the "Good morning, this is your wake-up call"s and in with the "Good Night Moon" readings, I say.

BUT I digress. The real focus of this entry is much more noble, as it involves false accusations and finding humor in others' tragedy. A grown-up bedtime story, if you will.

Once I got a text message that said:
"thanks 4 ruining marriage u homewrecking [explicit]!! I hope this [explicit] comes back around u when u least expect it." *Somewhere in there was an upside-down question mark, but I'm not sure it was relevant to the message ...

My initial response has me questioning my own innocence, because rather than say "erm, ya got the wrong number" I just said "Who is this?", which elicited the following:
"So ur sleepn with that many married men, you dont know who this is? Wow you really r a [explicit]."

Awesome, right? So rather than end it right then and there by trying to clear up the issue, I went ahead and got a little offended that I was being wrongly accused and responded with "You sure assume a lot ... Like that you've got the right number, for example."

I know, I know -- my bad. But THEN I did try to clear it up and explained (still in text) that the phone number was indeed new to me, and whoever she was trying to reach was not me, etc. etc. etc. blah blah blah. She didn't want to hear it. Creepily, she told me she knew where I lived and had my email address and a picture of me with my dad. She also cited me as an "ugly ass big-nosed brunette". I immediately called the cops. I'm kidding -- I'm not a brunette anymore, so I wasn't worried.

Over the next couple of days I received multiple phone calls from a variety of unrecognizable numbers, each time asking for a Tami or something. When I told them I wasn't her, there was this awkward pause and then they'd sort of maybe chuckle or something and go "Really? This isn't Tami?" And then I would have to explain the whole no-I'm-not-Tami-and-I-didn't-sleep-with-that-married-guy story all over again. I don't think they bought it.

Drama, drama, drama. What can I say? It's all part and parcel to the life of an IT consultant.

If my personal nonmusical lullaby didn't soften your heart, surely a few minutes of live streaming Shiba Inu puppies will do the trick. Sleep well, readers.