May
5
I have not, nor have I ever been, a purveyor of bouncy castles.
I know. This shocks you.
It is true. I have never sold, nor manufactured, nor purchased, nor manufactured for the purpose of selling or purchasing, or even RENTED, a bouncy castle. As a matter of fact, I have no intention, insofar as the future looks to me, of ever selling, renting, manufacturing or purchasing any such bouncy castle apparatuses. Apparati. Whatever.
And yet? As soon as winter becomes spring, as soon as warm sunshine replaces cold and snow, as surely as the earth tilts on its axis, our phone begins to ring. And ring and ring and ring.
It rings with people wishing to rent bouncy castles.
Our number is, apparently, one number off the number that is plastered on signs tacked to phone poles and sticking up on lawns and whatnot all over the region, that you would phone IF you were interested in a bouncy castle.
Note, however, it is NOT our number. And yet, this fact escapes many, many people.
So year after year, I have to tell them that, no, in fact, I am not going to rent them a bouncy castle. That is, of course, if I pick up the phone. However, there is no helping the dolts who, when faced with an answering machine that CLEARLY says “BDH and Cinnamon’s house” and NOT “The Company From Which You Might Rent Bouncy Castles”, STILL insist on leaving a message telling us they want to rent a bouncy castle for the weekend of the 31st.
Or the ones who call to confirm their reservation of a bouncy castle. And when they — SURPRISE! — do not get a call back, call again and again and leave repeated messages about their reservation of a bouncy castle on the 17th between 2 and 4.
ALL AFTER HEARING A MESSAGE THAT INDICATES TO ANYONE WITH HALF A BRAIN THAT THIS IS A PRIVATE RESIDENCE AND NOT THE COMPANY THEY TALKED TO WHENEVER TO RENT A BOUNCY CASTLE.
Ahem.
In the beginning, the first time it happened, I actually DID call the woman back who wished to reserve her bouncy castle and tell her that she’d been calling the wrong number. She was less than grateful, and then wanted ME to look up the CORRECT number for her.
After that, I decided I hate the bouncy castle rental people, bouncy castles in and of themselves, and all people who bounce therein.
I have considered, in the past, just stringing people along. I have thought about coming up with some facts and figures and just leading people down the garden path. “Okay, you want one for the afternoon of the 3rd? No problem. You want the deluxe or the regular? The regular? How much? Uhhhhhh… $250. Yeah. $250.” Or coming up with some elaborate song-and-dance about how, yes, we can come to Little Jayden/Aiden/Brayden/Hayden/Caden/Caitlin/Catelynn/Katelyn/Quaatelynnneeee’s birthday and for a mere $50 more we can guarantee a special appearance by Sir Bounce-A-Lot and the lovely Maid Hairflyin’ and also make balloon animals.
And then not showing up.
But it got to be too complicated. And really? I don’t care enough to really sell it.
But the calls keep coming.
So I am here, RIGHT HERE AND NOW, to tell the world that I AM NOT THE ALL-KNOWING ALL-SEEING GURU AND RENTER OF ALL THINGS BOUNCY CASTLE RELATED IN THE GREATER SOUTHERN ONTARIO REGION. Okay? Hear this NOW: You have the WRONG FUCKING NUMBER. I have NO BOUNCY CASTLES, and I will NEVER HAVE BOUNCY CASTLES.
The next sound you hear will be my head banging on the desk. Repeatedly.
Sing it sister!
Our number is very close to a local car cleaning establishment. We get lots of calls asking when they can drop off their car, when the car will be ready, and how much assorted services cost.
Sometimes they are angry that I’ve not answered in a professional manner, or want to speak to my manager to complain.
My dear husband will politely inform them of their error, and give the correct number. He is a much better person than I am.
My parents’ home number was one digit off the switchboard number for the local air base. We got lots of calls, especially after 11:30pm on Friday nights, from very intoxicated personnel. And of course the assorted sober misdial. My favourite was the Major who screamed at me about my ineptitude, and called back to make sure I answered properly, providing my rank and asking how to direct his call. I was ten. When he called back, I smartly answered “CFB Switchboard, Corporal Fitzpatrick speaking, how may I direct your call?” Major Annoyance congratulated me on doing something right, and gave me the extension. “One moment, sir!” I chirped. Then I mashed my hand down on the buttons on our touch tone phone, and hung up.
I wonder what happened to the poor soul who had to answer when he called the right number.
I feel your pain. In university the phone company gave me the number that used to belong to a Chinese restaurant. Do you know how long people keep Chinese food menus? A LONG LONG TIME. I had this spiel down to try to keep them from calling back thinking they had just dialed incorrectly… “You have the wrong number. You are dialing the number correctly, but this is not the Golden Palace. They closed. Don’t call back.”
They would still call back.
My brother kept telling me to just take their order and tell them their food would be there in 30 minutes. I was sorely tempted, but refrained.
HOLY!!!!! Lots of CAPS and the F-bomb! What a great post! hee hee
I can totally sympathize! When I lived at my parents place as a teen/young adult, I had my own line. My last 4 digits were one-off from the local H&R Block, so every April during tax season, my phone would ring off the hook with tax questions. I would be polite and say ‘sorry, wrong number, you want 9101, this is 9109. Most of the time, that was enough, except for a few dumbasses who would just call me right back. But this one guy called about 4 times, and the 3rd time, when I was irritated and said in a not so nice voice ‘you still are calling the WRONG number’ he told me to f-off. Well, my hubby was there (we weren’t married) so he answered the next call back and said ‘Hello, H&R Block’, and proceeded to tell the ass that his file was completed and there were some major discrepancies that would most certainly guarantee an audit and that he needed to come into the office the next morning at 9am sharp to go over it. The guy was in a panic and said he’d be there! It wasn’t very nice, but he was very rude to me, so I think he deserved it!!!
I WONDERED what that banging noise was.
Oh, hey – while I’m thinking about – do you know where I can get a bouncy castle?
*runs away laughing*
I hear you – man, do I hear you. Our number is 1 number off the local fire hall’s number, so people are constantly calling us in the summer & fall for burning permits. My absolute favourite was the guy who called last year to say that yes, he did have a permit to burn his leaves but that the tires near the tree where he was burning the leaves had caught fire & that he may need their assistance in the very near future. Seriously, what part of “you’ve reached Andrew & Janna” sounded like “this is the Happyville Fire Department”. Some people are NOT SMART (see also burning leaves near tires). I’m looking forward to this year’s crop of calls.
I OWN a bouncy castle… want to rent it? LOL