Living in Mexico With Lenny and Bubba
I have got the very worst fortune with getting wrong-number telephone calls, no substance what state I dwell in. Believe me, when we moved to Mexico, the job didn't acquire any better.
When we lived in Overland Park, Kansas, the incorrect Numbers started the very twenty-four hours we moved in and had our telephone connected. Someone, no, I intend one thousands of people, began calling for Air-Tech Technologies. The company statute title is a redundancy, I know, and perhaps that's wherefore at least seven states were hunting down the chief executive officer of this concern to beat out him senseless for that name, but no!
Apparently, these yokels sold some kind of constituents for jet plane combatant computerized pilotage systems. The constituent did not work. These people to whom Mr. Ha-Ha-I've-Got-Your-Money sold these faulty micro chips wanted to have got a few words with him, which I am certain meant they wanted to endanger him in the most baleful manner imaginable.
Mr. Air-Tech chief executive officer previously had the figure we were now assigned. The telephone company did not retire his figure when he, of course, wink, wink, changed it.
For 180 days, we received Air-Tech's names from all over the world. Companies in New Seeland and Australian that were looking for this cat were forever forgetting how to cipher the clip differences between Sunflower State and Down Under.
Once, I received a twelve facsimiles from the New Seeland authorities demanding I pitchfork over a refund that I believe was at least 8 digits, or else!
I finally asked person what exactly we were being hounded about. I talked with an Australian newspaper newsman who told me the full scoop. Finally, I called the telephone company. After respective service reps, each of which insisted I retell the narrative for his or her hilarity and enjoyment, changed our telephone set figure for free.
So, here I am thinking that moving to United Mexican States would offer us some alleviation from what I erroneously thought was an American issue-wrong numbers. United Mexican States is even worse!
The current conflict in which we are engaged is for person named "Luis Alvarez." I have got no thought what he's wanted for nor why everyone in all of Latin United States is after him, but this cat must owe everyone money. He must have got signed up for a loan and then didn't do payments, have gambling debts, or at the very least is loved and wanted by all of United Mexican States and seven other Latin American countries.
We acquire calls, and I am not making this up, for Luis Alvarez so many modern times a twenty-four hours that we've lost count. As I am typing these words, the phone, which we had to unplug, is now sitting there unavailable for us to use. If it were plugged in, it would be tintinnabulation off the hook for our good friend, Luis, who must have got got got us as fictional character mentions or something!
I curse to God, I got this phone call at 2:30 am one morning clip last fall:
To salvage time, I have translated it into English.
Mexican: Hello, is Luis Alvarez there?
Me: I am afraid you have the incorrect number.
Mexican: Did I dial 555-5555?
Mexican: Then I got the right number. I would wish to speak to Luis Alvarez, please, if it's not a bother.
Me: There is no Luis Alvarez here.
Mexican: But I dialed the right number.
Me: Yes, you did but Luis Alvarez doesn't dwell here.
Mexican: (After a long and pregnant pause) Oh, I see. Well, then, can you travel and acquire Luis Alvarez for me?
Me: Say, what?
Mexican: Can you run to wherever Luis Alvarez is and acquire him to the telephone for me?
Me: You still don't understand. This is not Luis Alvarez's house.
Mexican: Oh, I acquire that. Are you a gringo or something? Never mind. Can you just travel and acquire him?
Me: But, I don't cognize any Luis Alvarez.
Mexican: I am certain he dwells in your Barrio (neighborhood). Can you inquire your neighbours where he dwells and then travel acquire him?
Me: No, I don't believe I can make that.
Mexican: You've got to be a gringo. Ok, Let me inquire you this: Can I go forth a message for Luis Alvarez? When you see him, can you give it to him?
Me: But Iodine don't cognize any Luis Alvarez!
Mexican: ¡Qué Padre!
Me: I am going to hang up now.
Mexican: Ok, Gringo-man, just state Luis Alvarez when you see him that Chucho called.
We were waiting for a telephone call from a friend so we plugged in the phone and forgot it was "HOT!" and ready for "LIVE" Luis Alvarez action!
(This conversation have got been translated from the Spanish for clarity, alacrity, familiarity, and any other "ity" you can imagine...)
PERT AND RUDE MEXICANA: I would wish to talk with Luis Alvarez.
A Short Pause in the Action
I have been sitting around planning and plotting most fiendishly for calendar months just how to react to these people. The ground is that they cannot look to grip what "You're reached a incorrect number" means. This is not a Mexican phenomenon. When I was in America, this old lady would always name and take a firm stand on making a hair assignment with me. No substance what I told her, no substance how I pled with her that I wasn't "Get Nailed" Hair, Wax, and Nail Salon, she insisted I take her appointment. To maintain her from hounding me, I get scheduling her in. So, this haps anywhere that have got got phones.
Back to the Action
ME: This is the house of Bower.
PERT AND RUDE MEXICANA: The house is in a shower?
ME: This is a house of Gringos.
PERT AND RUDE MEXICANA: Iodine don't care where you are from; I desire to talk with Luis Alvarez.
ME: We are Gringos from the United States and we don't cognize this guy.
PERT AND RUDE MEXICANA: Rich Person I reached 555-5555?
ME: Yes, but we don't cognize this guy.
PERT AND RUDE MEXICANA: Then why make we have your computer address and telephone figure as his topographic point of residence?
ME: Because, Chiquita, he is a brainsick adult male much like you are a brainsick adult female for failing to grip the conception that ...YOU rich person THE wrong NUMBER!
Now, this would have lagged on for proceedings were it not for a twine of Spanish names that somehow quite miraculously came rushing out of my mouth. I was possessed by the Street-Spanish Demon and cannot be held responsible for what happened next.
She hung up.
I anticipate to begin receiving visitants to my door any twenty-four hours now, with at least two hoods named Bubbito (this is Spanish for Bubba) and Lennito (this is Spanish for Lenny).
They will be looking for Luis Alvarez, of course!