One rainy day, stuck indoors with a million things on my to-do list piling up, I notice I have a voice mail on my phone. With no number showing up in the history, I dread who it could be. Work asking me to come in tonight. Eddie calling to say he has to stay late. The talent-booking guy canceling my gig that I've been looking forward to for a month. I suddenly realize my own pessimism, justifying it with, "It's just been one of those days today."
I dial my voicemail, expecting the worst when instead, I hear a kind, warm voice through the ear piece,
"Hello cutie!" She brimmed with congenial energy and quivered slightly, her voice worn with age.
"Do you want to go with me to the Opera Luncheon at the Coronado Country Club on Saturday? I'll be home all day, so let me know. Love you! Bye!"
Her voice was so familiar, so welcoming and cheerful. I'm touched by her lively and sincere invitation and for a moment, I'm disappointed that I have to work all day Saturday. But my day dream is interrupted by the robotic voice instructing me,
"Press 1 to repeat. Press 2 to delete. Press 3 to save."
The only problem is, The Coronado Club is in El Paso. I live in New Jersey. She dialed the wrong number. But I press 1 to repeat anyway. And then smiling, I press 3 to save.