I have received and reviewed the message you left on my voicemail this afternoon, in which you spent 37 seconds on a profanity-rich tirade decrying my practice of constantly calling you and then hanging up after one second. The crescendo at the end was particularly well executed, and rest assured, I have received your message to "never fucking call" you quite clearly.
However, I do feel obligated to let you know that I've never actually called you before. Never. In fact, I haven't dialed anyone on this phone for at least six months. I'd tell you exactly how long it has been, but I got tired of turning the little scrolling wheel on the front of the LG Chocolate to try to pin it down.
I'd send you a screen snapshot of my call log, but this phone doesn't do screen snapshots. I charge this phone once a week because I use it as an alarm clock and because I need to have something when the day comes that I drop the work iPhone that I use when I have to communicate with the outside world.
In fact, when you "returned my call" this afternoon, the phone in question was sixty-five miles away from the only person in the house with opposable thumbs, so... it wasn't me. I can only assume there is some spoofing going on somewhere. Technology -- always remember that it is making our lives better!
So, my dear angry person, I suggest you just block my number and move on with your life. Think happy thoughts of flowers and sunshine. Put down your phone and go for a walk. You may even consider talking to your doctor about blood pressure medication.
And please know that I would text you and tell you that it wasn't me, but I don't have all day to type words on a keypad that only contains digits.
Regards,
Theresa
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