Can't make this stuff up!
I'm not even sure I know all the details of how this happened.
Here's my theory of what I think took place last night.
Key Players:
Henry
Me
My phone
Some Italian Girl
Setting:
Although I do not call Henry, my married office teammate that often there are certain occasions where I text him about something. For instance, if we are all meeting up for dinner, I will text him the details. Or, like yesterday when I accidentally slept in, I texted him to say that I didn't sleep well and that I would be late. Things of that sort.
Plot:
Well, in the craziness of life, I never really put two and two together to notice that when Henry would call me a number showed up and not his name. I also didn't belabor the fact that he said he didn't receive my text message about over-sleeping. "Oh well," I thought. "Stupid Vodafone." Hindsight is 20-20.
Intrigue:
Last night, I got a call another call from a "restricted number." This has been happening for some time now, but again, I paid the minor fluke no attention. This time differed slightly because I actually answered the call. Enter Some Italian Girl. We had a very awkward interchange of "hellos?" "pronto" "ciao" and the like until she settled on, "Do you understand Italian?" I said yes, and to my surprise I understood exactly everything she said in the conversation that followed! It went something like this:
SIG: "Who are you? You've been texting my boyfriend?!"
Me: "Uh....what?!!"
SIG: "My boyfriend--you've called him!"
Me: "I'm sorry. Who are you?"
SIG: "Celia. Don't call my boyfriend."
Me: "Uh...(whimper)...okay...."
SIG (now known as Celia): "His number is ????????? 19."
Me: "I'm sorry. You said that really fast. What?"
SIG: "?????????? 19. Check it so you don't call him again!"
Me: "Okay. (confused pause as I try to translate something intelligent in my head...it didn't work) Bye."
SIG: "Bye."
Resolution:
Well after that pleasant conversation, I ran into the living room to act it out for my roommates. Somehow, to my great shock, I had become the "other woman" to this poor girl. She must think her boyfriend was caught up with some idiotic American girl who always asked him to dinner and told him she overslept!! We proceeded to laugh until we cried. Then we double checked Henry's number on my phone. And yep, there was one number off. Of course.
Sorry Celia. Wherever you are.
Here's my theory of what I think took place last night.
Key Players:
Henry
Me
My phone
Some Italian Girl
Setting:
Although I do not call Henry, my married office teammate that often there are certain occasions where I text him about something. For instance, if we are all meeting up for dinner, I will text him the details. Or, like yesterday when I accidentally slept in, I texted him to say that I didn't sleep well and that I would be late. Things of that sort.
Plot:
Well, in the craziness of life, I never really put two and two together to notice that when Henry would call me a number showed up and not his name. I also didn't belabor the fact that he said he didn't receive my text message about over-sleeping. "Oh well," I thought. "Stupid Vodafone." Hindsight is 20-20.
Intrigue:
Last night, I got a call another call from a "restricted number." This has been happening for some time now, but again, I paid the minor fluke no attention. This time differed slightly because I actually answered the call. Enter Some Italian Girl. We had a very awkward interchange of "hellos?" "pronto" "ciao" and the like until she settled on, "Do you understand Italian?" I said yes, and to my surprise I understood exactly everything she said in the conversation that followed! It went something like this:
SIG: "Who are you? You've been texting my boyfriend?!"
Me: "Uh....what?!!"
SIG: "My boyfriend--you've called him!"
Me: "I'm sorry. Who are you?"
SIG: "Celia. Don't call my boyfriend."
Me: "Uh...(whimper)...okay...."
SIG (now known as Celia): "His number is ????????? 19."
Me: "I'm sorry. You said that really fast. What?"
SIG: "?????????? 19. Check it so you don't call him again!"
Me: "Okay. (confused pause as I try to translate something intelligent in my head...it didn't work) Bye."
SIG: "Bye."
Resolution:
Well after that pleasant conversation, I ran into the living room to act it out for my roommates. Somehow, to my great shock, I had become the "other woman" to this poor girl. She must think her boyfriend was caught up with some idiotic American girl who always asked him to dinner and told him she overslept!! We proceeded to laugh until we cried. Then we double checked Henry's number on my phone. And yep, there was one number off. Of course.
Sorry Celia. Wherever you are.
posted by Sarah at 11:38 AM
8 Comments:
AMAZING!
Up there with my "big black boy" story...Dang.
HA!!! I love it! Your post, Hay's comment... so great.
that is awesome - nothing like an angry Italian woman accusing you of an international love affair and a huge language blunder.
i've missed checking your blog! i need to check it more often. :)
Hysterical!
I'm laughing out loud!
To claire's comment: ditto-Schmale.
I can't take it, Sarah. HILARIOUS!
Awesome! Reminds me of the IM days when I thought I was sending my Justin "good morning my love" messages when in fact I was sending them to Justin "shorty" Harbor. Makes for a fun story:)
Love ya!
Hilarious story!! Mom told me the story first and we had a great laugh. I still laughed as I read your blog!
SARAH!!! Hey, how are you? so fun to run across your blog! Cant talk long, gotta get Rev in bed. Check out our blog. www.rozells.blogspot.com
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