Ummm, yeah...

So my mother blogged about her neighbor yesterday. This neighbor lost her sister and mother recently to cancer. She mentions "her two young sons and husband."

So I assume it's my good friends Jenny and Brooks. Jenny was our wedding photographer and Brooks was my best man! They have 2 young sons, they have sisters, they have mothers.

I write them a long email filled with my sympathies and condolences.

Come to find out today that my mom was referring to the other neighbors. I didn't even know they had two sons, I only knew of just the one. So now I feel like a moron... thanks for being vague ma! I guess it's partially my fault for not making sure I had all the facts.

Reminds me of a couple of other times...

I was offered a job with a young couple working at Mrs Fields Cookies way back in 1994-95 or so... They used to be in Utah, but opened up their own store in Myrtle Beach. This was before email and cell phones were really around. Most communication was still via land line phone and snail mail. If I remember her name was Debbie, I can't remember his name anymore...

They wanted me to run the store, a sort of assistant manager, or assistant to the manager, whatever... it was supposed to be better than what I had been doing... flipping burgers at Hardees for the night shift.

I called them to let them know I needed more information before I could make my decision. It was on the other side of the country and in a very upscale touristy town. They give me their phone number and mail me a local Sunday paper so I can start looking for apartments... it's not good... it's very expensive to live there. I had to think hard about it.

I dial the number I was given... to at least let them know that I am thinking about it... I get an answering machine... "Hi this is Debbie, leave me a message."

"Hi Debbie, it's Jeff in Utah. I'll try calling back later." CLICK. I call a few more times, no reply. I leave more messages, growing increasingly vexed each time.

One early Sunday morning I try yet again... Finally an answer...

"Hello?"

"Hi, Debbie?"

"Yes."

"Hey, it's Jeff."

"Who?"

"Jeff, from Utah."

"Uhhh, okay."

"I'm still thinking about coming out, but I need to find a place to live first. It's pretty expensive out there."

"Wait who's this?"

"Jeff... in Utah."

"I think you have the wrong number."

"This is Debbie right? It's Jeff."

"Ummm yeah, you have the wrong number."

Click.

What the crap? Is she an idiot? I have the wrong number? I just happened to dial the number I thought was theirs and by some weird stroke of luck I just happen to find another person named Debbie? What are the odds?

So a few weeks later the real Debbie finally calls me back and she's all.... "What's up, haven't heard back from you about coming out here." Well yeah, because you gave me the wrong number ding-a-ling. Anyway I get more specifics about the job and how much they can pay me... $9.50-10 an hr. WTF???? Yeah, not gonna happen. I could never survive out there on that. She tries to tell me I could fiind a second or even third job and that should be enough to make it.

No thanks.


Then another story about getting the wrong person... this happened in 2001. By now Google and the internet was pretty mainstream. You can locate anyone, anywhere, get their phone number and address with the click of a mouse.

I'm chillin' in my apartment when my phone rings. Wha? No one calls me. Especially at 9:30 at night. Makes me wonder sometimes why I even got the phone in the first place. I pick up...

"Hi, Jeff P.?" (Last name withheld.)

"Yes."

"This is your aunt. Your mom died last night."

.......

.......

.......

My mom died? Oh my god! My mom died. I'm speechless, my world is crashing to the ground. When, why, why isn't dad telling me? I just talked to her last night.

"Are you going to fly out to Atlanta for the funeral?"

"Fly to Atlanta? Wait, who is this?"

"Aunt Thelma. From Ruth's side."

By now I realize she had the wrong Jeff P. I had been getting calls for some time meant for another Jeff P. in Utah. It was very annoying before, but now it was terrifying. I pick myself up from the floor and tell her she has the wrong Jeff.

"Oh... never mind then. Could you let him know?"

She still doesn't understand that there's more than one Jeff P. living in Utah. In fact the last time I checked there were 4 other variations of Jeff P. living in Utah and she got the wrong one. I let her know that she should make sure she has the right one before dropping such news on someone.

After that I called my mom at nearly 10 PM, way past their bed time, just to make sure she was okay. She was. Phew...

-Jeff P.... the one and only.