Jim called us several times the other day. Of course, we don’t know Jim, and Jim doesn’t know us. Still, he called. He was looking for someone . . . someone he didn’t seem too surprised not to find. I wasn’t able to talk with Jim (which might explain why he called more than once). I only heard his lonely voice on our answering machine. He sounded so sad. He left no name of the person he was seeking – obviously assuming he’d reached the correct number. He merely said that he didn’t know if they’d be home or not, and then later, “It’s Jim again . . . I called earlier (sad pause) hoping to catch you (more pause).” Poor Jim. Why won’t this person call him back? Why won’t they talk to Jim? Well, I guess part of the problem is, they don’t actually know Jim called as Jim was accidentally calling us instead. I wish I’d been there to answer Jim’s call. To assure him that he wasn’t being ignored by the person he sought, that it was all a big misunderstanding . . . he’d simply dialed the wrong number, and surely, the individual he was seeking was likely waiting anxiously to hear from him! I should like to have given Jim that hope. Alas, I fear it would only have been false hope. From the sound in Jim’s voice, I have a suspicion that it came as no surprise to him that his calls weren’t being returned. I have the feeling this person might very well have no concern at all for poor lonely Jim trying so forlornly and with such little hope to reach them. I am rather upset with this mystery individual for being so thoughtless with poor Jim. I’m sure Jim deserves much better.
And there you have my assumptions over two incorrectly placed calls sadly blinking away for some attention on the answering machine in my empty kitchen.