The Case of Mistaken Identity

It all started nearly two years ago.  I changed companies for my cell phone service, and as a result received a new number.  Had I known what I know now I  may not have made the switch...or at least requested a different number. 

At first, I thought people just had the wrong number, but after getting up to three calls a day asking for a specific person, I realized there was a reason this number was dropped.  Soon I figured out that collection agencies were in search of a Bosnian man who must owe a tidy sum of money.  Time after time I would repeat that, no he is not available, no I do now know him, please take me off your calling list.  I would have blocked the number, but it was different every time.  After a while, I just stopped answering the phone anytime I didn't recognize the number.  Dozens after dozens of calls later, they finally died down, and eventually stopped completely.

Fast forward several months.  If you have ever been woken out of a deep sleep, you may understand how I felt.  (side note: I am in no way a self-proclaimed 'morning 'person' nor do I ever intend to be one.)  It is five in the morning and an unwelcome sound jars me awake...awake being relative to the situation.  I pick up my phone, mutter a groggy "hello?" and hear the most devastating news imaginable.  "This is ADT security and we are calling to inform you that your bakery has been robbed."   Of course my initial thought was "Oh No! My bakery has been robbed!"  Only to be replaced by a deep sense of loss when I came to the stark reality that I do not, nor have I ever owned a bakery.  I managed to convey, in a confused manner, that I was not the person they needed to inform, and hung up.  As I drifted back to sleep, I connected the dots and remembered hearing that name before, but thought it was just a freak accident and would never happen again.

A funny story, right?  That's what I thought.  In fact, I came up with a theory.  Once upon a time there lived a man who was fond of pastries.  So he decided to open a bakery.  One problem: he was more fond of eating pastries than making them and selling them, so very quickly the bills began to pile up.  As he got further and further behind on his payments, he started receiving calls from the collections agencies.  Not to be daunted, he came up with a solution -- ditch the phone and get another number.  Enter Liz (just out of college, in need of a new cell phone and blissfully unaware of the coming inconveniences)  Now, not only have the collection agencies gotten off his back, now they are bothering someone else.  But those bills still aren't paying themselves.  Time for a new plan of action.  And then inspiration strikes.  He has an insurance policy for his business.  Why not stage a robbery and collect?  What a brilliant idea!  The rest speaks for itself.

Two month later I received yet another phone call from ADT security.  Once again they were calling me to tell me my bakery had been robbed.  As before, I was less than coherent, but relayed the message that I never ever wanted to be disturbed by such news again.  For the second time I was assured that my number would be removed from the contact list, and I returned to the land of blissful slumbers.

In my naivete I assumed that the problem was taken care of, and I would never hear from ADT security again unless I entered a contract myself.  I was wrong...again.  This time the call came at 2 am on a Sunday morning.  I vaguely remember picking up my phone and blinking at it, trying to figure out what it was and why it was making noise.  I must have slid it open, because I heard a distant voice.  "Hello?  Hello?  Hello?"  And it dawned on me -- this is a phone, someone wants to talk to me!  So I answered.  "Hello?"  Even in my semi conscious state I recognized the three letters that I heard through the speaker.  ADT yet again.  I was quite firm in my insistence this time, but not profane.  After my little tirade, a meek voice reassured me that my number would most definitely be removed this time.  I thanked him, hung up and rolled over to get back to sleep.  As my head hit the pillow I felt a pang of regret for missing the opportunity to locate this so-called bakery.  Oh well, sleep is much more important, and I dismissed the thought almost immediately.  Just as I was drifting off, my phone rings...again.  "This is the police department, are you the owner of **** bakery?"  ( YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME!!!!)  "No, and I don't know who is, although I suspect **** ***** might be, but I have no idea how to get a hold of him."  The officer apologized profusely and stated that they were just going through the list of contact numbers they had in an attempt to find the rightful owner.  Has it ever occurred to them that he doesn't want to be found??  At this point, all I want is to go back to sleep.  This time, I'm smart enough to turn my phone on silent, and the rest of the night passes without event.

The next day my friend and I drive by this bakery out of sheer curiousity.  Is it really a bakery, or a front for another business?  Upon first glance it appeared to be a legitimate place of business, but there was no time to stop.  Since then, I have returned, verified that the bakery does exist, as does its elusive owner.  Unfortunately, he was not available for comment, but when that occasion does arise, I will be sure to post about  it in detail.

In conclusion I can only say that gaining an identity is not as glamorous as it seems although it is preferable to having one's identity stolen.  I can never say my life is boring, for it is quite the opposite. ;)