Having a cellphone has been intersting in various ways. One of the things that I find entertaining is getting phone calls for a wrong number. I guess I like it because it usually means I get to practice speaking Spanish (I have an 831 area code, look up the demographics for Salinas). Even if I just say “Creo que tienes el numero equivocado,” and they hang up, I still get a kick out of it. I think I’ve gotten about 5 or 6 mistaken callers, and all but one was speaking Spanish when I said, “Hello.”
I’ve also gotten a few calls from some company in Florida. The first two times, I just told them that they had the wrong number, and just hung up. This time, the lady on the other line apparently wanted to talk to me even though I couldn’t understand her well. She asked if I could understand her if she spoke slower. I thought, why not practice my spanish a little today? So, she asked what my name was, and I told her, “Topher.” She needed me to spell that one out for her. Then she asked about my age, height, weight, whether I worked indoors or outdoors, and about my general state of health. It eventually got to the point where I was asked if I was interested in sexually appealling pheremones, muscle enhancing supplements, or vitamins to help my poor, over-worked brain. It was then when I said that I wasn’t interested in anything like that, and that all my health problems could be solved with more sleep, more food, and more exercise. I thanked her for helping me to practice my Spanish, and said goodbye.