Attention World, I Am Not Named Jennifer

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Dear Jennifer,

I don’t know who you are. I’ve never met you. I don’t even know your last name. This makes this letter even more difficult for me.

I have had my current phone number for the last six years. For most of those six years, it has been an enjoyable experience. The only exceptions to this come in the form of calls for the wrong number. For a while, I was mistaken for a gentleman named Virgil, so much so that I created a back story and character for Virgil. He became a British special agent akin to James Bond.

Despite the fun I had with Virgil, I eventually was forced to verbally abuse people calling for him so I could reclaim my phone. My phone was mine again and I was happy to have it back. I swore this would never happen again, and I kept my word.

That is, until a week ago.

Recently, I have been receiving phone calls for you. As you may or may not be aware of, we do not share a phone. In fact, since I don’t even know you, I would venture to say that you have never even seen my phone. If police called you into the station to identify my phone because it had been brought in on a string of cell phone related murders (unlikely, but possible according to some horror movies), you would be no help to them.

While the phone calls are annoying, they are more disappointing than anything else.

Multiple times in the last week, I have answered the phone hoping to find a friend. I like my friends, so if they were to call me, it would make me happy. The person on the other end, however, always asks for you. I immediately sink into a deep depression because, not only were the phone calls for someone else, but that person has no interest in talking to me. It makes it difficult to function in my every day life when I have to spend an hour each day crying in the fetal position because of you.

I feel you are making me the victim of a new kind of crime: identity gift. I don’t want you to gift me with your identity, so please do not force me to be Jennifer anymore. I have a hard enough time being Nathan, so adding a second identity just seems unmanageable at this point.

In conclusion, thank you so much for considering me when you give people you don’t want to talk to a different phone number. I do appreciate your acknowledgement of my phone’s existence. I just ask that, when a guy asks for your number, you give him a number to a local pizza parlor. Or maybe a Chuck E. Cheese. Maybe you could give him the number for the suicide hotline just in case the false number you have supplied hits this particular person harder than it should. These, of course, are just suggestions.

　

Love,

Nathan

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