Yesterday, at 11PM I got a pretty strange phone call. Apparently from a service called "poetry du jour," for which I most certainly did not sign up, it consisted of a girl reading a poem to me - e.e. cummings, but I was too busy scheming to figure out what the actual poem was.
So, I asked to unsubscribe, or speak to management, or something (I don't remember the precise flow of conversation), and there was a transfer, and then a disconnection, and then a call back, and another transfer - in short, I dealt with a number of professional-sounding people, making the thing sound legitimate. They asked me my name, and even asked me how to spell my last name when accessing my information in their (alleged?) computer. I ascertained that I was subscribed to the service on the basis of a gift subscription from my best friend, whose name they seemed to have trouble pronouncing, again lending the whole thing an air of legitimacy rather than prank call - especially since there wasn't anything particularly "prankish" anywhere in the nature of the whole thing. Satisfied that it was just my friend determined to bother me, I left a snide message on his Facebook and went to sleep:
Today:
I woke up to find a Facebook reply:
Dunno whether to believe him or not, since we tend to do annoying things to each other and then deny it vehemently, but it does give his statement credence that he is in Bulgaria - I took him to the airport myself. He's on an archaeological dig. It seems odd that in the middle of all that, he would call back to the US to order poetry read to me nightly.
After that, then, I decided to go snooping. I put the number into a reverse-lookup type site, which revealed that it originated in Cape Coral, Florida, which is a few hours south of here, and from a landline.
Two relevant pieces of information: 1. "Those damn kids these days" tend to rely exclusively on cell phones for interpersonal communication, and that would probably include potential prank calls. In any case, more evidence that they really were smart and knew what they were doing, or that the business is in fact legitimate.
2. On the opposite end of the suspicion spectrum, my same best friend's girlfriend lives in Cape Coral. She also sent me a text message that same day asking if I knew another kid's phone number (they both participate in Model United Nations, so it was a reasonable request). She also writes poetry and is an enormous fan of e.e. cummings. She also denied all knowledge of anything, and at no point did she seem to know more about it than I told her.
More snooping: Googling poetry du jour with or without various helpful phrases (florida, cape coral, phone) produced no useful or legitimacy-boosting results.
Final bothersome fact of today: I didn't get another phone call, seemingly in contradiction with the "du jour" nature of the alleged service.
Any advice on what to think or do about any of this, siblings?
So, I asked to unsubscribe, or speak to management, or something (I don't remember the precise flow of conversation), and there was a transfer, and then a disconnection, and then a call back, and another transfer - in short, I dealt with a number of professional-sounding people, making the thing sound legitimate. They asked me my name, and even asked me how to spell my last name when accessing my information in their (alleged?) computer. I ascertained that I was subscribed to the service on the basis of a gift subscription from my best friend, whose name they seemed to have trouble pronouncing, again lending the whole thing an air of legitimacy rather than prank call - especially since there wasn't anything particularly "prankish" anywhere in the nature of the whole thing. Satisfied that it was just my friend determined to bother me, I left a snide message on his Facebook and went to sleep:
QuoteBitch.
What the fuck could have possibly possessed you to spend money to make somebody call me daily and read poetry? At 11 PM!? I thought the NSA was after me. Christ. (Or Crist, I guess.)
You are a whore.
Today:
I woke up to find a Facebook reply:
QuoteHo.
I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about. Really, I don't.
Otherwise, things here are wonderful in Bulgaria, I'm alive and happy, etc., etc. Hope all is well in Tampa.
Dunno whether to believe him or not, since we tend to do annoying things to each other and then deny it vehemently, but it does give his statement credence that he is in Bulgaria - I took him to the airport myself. He's on an archaeological dig. It seems odd that in the middle of all that, he would call back to the US to order poetry read to me nightly.
After that, then, I decided to go snooping. I put the number into a reverse-lookup type site, which revealed that it originated in Cape Coral, Florida, which is a few hours south of here, and from a landline.
Two relevant pieces of information: 1. "Those damn kids these days" tend to rely exclusively on cell phones for interpersonal communication, and that would probably include potential prank calls. In any case, more evidence that they really were smart and knew what they were doing, or that the business is in fact legitimate.
2. On the opposite end of the suspicion spectrum, my same best friend's girlfriend lives in Cape Coral. She also sent me a text message that same day asking if I knew another kid's phone number (they both participate in Model United Nations, so it was a reasonable request). She also writes poetry and is an enormous fan of e.e. cummings. She also denied all knowledge of anything, and at no point did she seem to know more about it than I told her.
More snooping: Googling poetry du jour with or without various helpful phrases (florida, cape coral, phone) produced no useful or legitimacy-boosting results.
Final bothersome fact of today: I didn't get another phone call, seemingly in contradiction with the "du jour" nature of the alleged service.
Any advice on what to think or do about any of this, siblings?
); foster mutual respect and understanding by reciprocating.