Saturday, June 26, 2010

Spooky Saturday

A series of strange events has occurred, fairly unremarkable on their own but in combination downright creepy.

First, I received a cryptic e-mail on Thursday. Sent through the New York Times website was this article. Gardens in the Garden State is certainly an interest of mine (I am now more determined than ever to visit the New Jersey Botanical Garden in Ringwood!), but the cryptic part is that I do not recognize the e-mail address from which the article came. I searched my G-mail and there are no other records of this sender. Furthermore, no message was included to shed light on this. How does this person know me? Are they a former co-worker of mine? Or Community Gardener or volunteer who worked with me at the garden? A fan of my Winter Woodland Walk, perhaps? Are they a reader of this blog? Who are you!?

This morning I was awakened at 7:32am by my phone. My blurry sleep vision detected a "971" &mdash a Portland cell phone area code &mdash and I wondered if I'd perhaps overslept for work! But before I answered, my eyes refocused on the "917" area code. Where the heck is that!? The caller left a voicemail, just the sound of their phone hanging up. Exactly one minute later, the mystery caller called again, this time leaving a voicemail identifying herself as "Monica" Something and asking me to call her back at 917-xxx-xxxx. My parents are currently on a trip, and I wondered if 917 was the area code of where they are and if maybe something had happened and I was their emergency contact and someone was trying to call me!!!!! But no, "Monica" would have said as much on her voicemail. I tried to go back to sleep. But the phone continued to ring. "Monica" would not leave me alone! I finally called her back.

"Yeah?" Monica said, upon answering the phone.

"Um...hello...?" I wasn't really sure what to say.

A pause.

"Someone from this number has been calling me all morning."

"Yes, I have!" said Monica in a tone that indicated self-righteous anger.

Acquiring my own self-righteous anger, I replied with the unproductive declaration of, "Well, you're calling the West Coast and it's very early here!"

Monica asked to speak to my supervisor.


Monica then did not ask me, but told me, that my name was something (I think she said "August," but that is a boy's name) contrary to my outgoing voicemail message stating that this phone belongs to a "Sarah," and she would like to speak to my supervisor!

"Um...this is a personal&mdash"

"This is the Newark Airport and I would like to speak to your supervisor!"

"No, it's not the Newark Airport!" I announced, once I broke through my bewilderment and processed what she was saying.

Monica demanded to speak to my supervisor again. I informed her that she had been calling Oregon. She made one more demand to which I nearly shouted, "This is a PERSONAL CELL PHONE in PORTLAND OREGON."

"Oh. Sorry," said Monica.

More irritating than her mistaking my phone number for that of the airport (which has a 212 area code, because you call the Port Authority of NYC/NJ, not some random Newark cell phone number) was her ignorance of what I was telling her and insistence that I was not who I said. What kind of customer service line would lie in the first place, let alone invent a lie like, "I'm in a state most New Jerseyans aren't really sure exists! It's not California, right? Is it near there!?!??!"

A couple of hours later, I was driving to work listening to the radio, when my music suddenly turned into static and talking. Eventually, I realized that, although I had touched nothing connected with the stereo, the radio station had changed. I changed it back. A few minutes later, the same thing happened. Again and again, until I had merged onto and driven a few miles on the freeway.

This was when I began to wonder if there was some connection between the strange events of the past few days. Are aliens messing with my electronics? Is Monica not just some idiot from Queens, but really a spy? And who sent me that New York Times article!?


LS said...

Sorry, it was me!!!!!!! /LS

ellen said...

it's about time you blog again!

Meg said...

I was telling a student the other day that I have a good friend who lives in Oregon. She asked, "Is that in Washington?" She's moving to Washington this summer.

Also, I was getting messages from a guy looking for "Frankie." I never picked up because he sounded like a mobster. His last message was him yelling at Frankie about--no lie--an informant. He ended his call by saying he was coming to the house to find me (Frankie). Scary!

Sarah said...

Hey Meg! That's pretty crazy! I had something sort of like that happen once, but it wasn't as crazy! It was just one voicemail, some guy with a deep voice leaving a message that sounded like it was about a drug deal (or some illicit activity), for a guy, and said something about "coming to Belleville." I wanted to call back and say, "YOU DID HEAR MY OUTGOING MESSAGE IS A GIRL'S VOICE RIGHT!?" but of course, I really didn't want to call back. I guess mob/gang messages are what we can expect, having NJ area codes. I kind of want to get a Portland phone number now, so at least my wrong number calls are in the same time zone...I wonder what kind of spooky calls I'd get then!