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Don’t do house visits, sorry!

August 2, 2010

About two weeks ago (while we were still in Spain) I received a phone call. That in itself was weird as I had just gotten a new sim card and the four people in the world that had my new number were seated to my left and right at the dinner table. Even odder was the fact that the stranger on the other end of the line was asking me in German whether I do house visits. Okay, I thought, so this guy’s obviously misdialled. I yanked at carriages as my thoughts headed gutter-bound. I mean, come on… maybe he had meant to call a doctor… or a vet for a sick pet… or a… erm… I don’t know. In any case, it was odd.

Then, about an hour ago, I received another strange call. As was the case previously, it was a German-speaking man on the other end of the line. This time, however, the stranger was asking why I hadn’t called him back as he wanted to see me. Ahhh… dear.

Fifteen minutes later L comes to me with a grin and says he’s just googled my new phone number. The number, it turns out, used to belong to a… self-employed Spaniard:

 

 

Better call my phone company mañana to get a new number. Ahahaha!

 

N

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