Wrong number

Early Friday evening, as I pulled into the Target parking lot, I heard the subtle bleep of my cellphone letting me know I had a voicemail. The number on the display was unfamiliar. Excited (because I rarely get calls, let alone voicemails), I typed in my launch code. :)

The moment I heard the name “Christy” in the salutation, my excitement deflated. However, the more I listened to the message, I became concerned for Christy. It was the bank calling to inform her of a problem they’d found in her paperwork. It was imperative that Christy call back within in a certain timeframe.

Of course, I have no idea who Christy is. Nor do I know how to make contact with her (although the idea of dialing several variations of my own cell phone number in order to find her did spring to mind). Yet, I feel like I can’t simply do nothing for Christy. Perhaps if I call the bank and explain to them that they did not, in actuality, leave a message on Christy’s phone…then perhaps they would give Christy a little leeway.

On the other hand, I feel crazy for giving this wrong number as much thought as I have. I mean, who does this?!