For the record, I am NOT the National Treasurer of the Republican National Committee.

And I didn't approve this message.

That's right. A guy at the Green Hills Mall, driving a Rolls Royce,
parking in an accessible parking space in the garage next to the door.
No plate, no hang tag. Nice.

We got a new phone system last year in my office. With that change, we all got direct extensions, and to account for future expansion, we got more numbers than we actually use. Because of this, from time to time we'll get wrong number voicemail messages on extensions that don't really exist. From time to time, I clean them off.

The most recent time I did this, I found a gem. It's from February of this year, and it's absolutely remarkable. I've listened to this about a thousand times, and each time I hear something new. There's so much human drama here, such a compelling story.



Our cast of characters:

• Lisa, the caller. (She's traveling, but will be home tomorrow. She's Dewey's alleged enabler, though from a remote location. Says she doesn't really care, but really does. She's sober much of the time. Almost the big sister.)
  
• Christine or Scott, the intended caller.
• Dewey. Our protagonist. (Runner up of $1000 dollar phone bills. Careless. Blames someone else for all of her troubles. Gets Lisa to do her dirty work.)
  
• Tess. (Dewey's friend, who put the wine bottles in the car.)
  
• The idiot cop. (Pulled Dewey and Tess over, charged them with a DWI.)
  
• Grandma Edie. (She lost her house.)
  

I haven't had any success tracking down any of these people, but I do know that the initial call from Christine or Scott couldn't have originated from our office, because the outgoing caller ID from any extension is the main line. What I can't figure out is how Lisa managed to misdial the number given that she was responding to a caller ID.

Crazy.