Just Call Me Angel…Posted: September 4, 2007
Before we begin, let me set the record straight that this post, despite the subject, has nothing to do with the other song Bonnie Tyler wrote. Yes, as a matter of fact, in addition to Total Eclipse of the Heart, she wrote and performed Angel of the Mornin’.
Although based on what I’m about to talk about, she might have written about Angel of the Night, Angel of the Mid-day or, heck, just about any other time.
The story starts Sunday morning. I get up, turn my cell on and find out there’s a message. Here is a word-for-word transcript:
“Yeah, I hope this is the right number. My friend and I are looking for Angel. We saw her on Craig’s List and we’re willing to pay double if she can come out tonight. Please call us back at xxx-xxx-xxxx.”
I kid you not.
I was cracking up. How funny is that. These guys must have had a few too many and just dialed the wrong number.
Or so I thought.
I wouldn’t say my phone has been ringing off the hook with people looking for Angel, but I’ve gotten more than a dozen calls at last count.
It’s such a funny thing, because guys aren’t expecting me to answer the phone. “Um, is Angel there?”
One guy did ask me if I knew my number was posted on Craig’s List. “I have a pretty good idea of that now,” I told him.
So, my quest was to find Angel — I mean, who knows, perhaps she’d give me a cut of her business. After all, I’ve got 12 good phone numbers of people interested in her services.
And that’s the thing, Craig’s List has tons of services. I had heard of the site before, but hadn’t really been. Oh. My. God.
You can get anything. Or sell anything. And apparently that includes yourself. Or, rather, as I’ve learned, businesswomen like Angel are selling companionship. Anything more than that, I’ve learned, is between two consenting adults. Or three. Or four.
I found Angel’s listing under the erotic services category. In addition to her, I also found my phone number. But, I can’t blame Angel. I harbor no ill will toward her — or any of these horny guys. I really don’t. This has been kind of fun.
As it turns out, our phone numbers are exactly the same, with one exception. Including area code, we match on 9 out of 10 numbers. She typed her number in wrong in one ad and that’s caused the flurry on my end.
And what a flurry it’s been. I think it’s safe to say that Angel is a very successful entrepreneur, considering that I’ve fielded more than a dozen calls on her behalf in the last 72 hours.
My favorite call was the guy who thought he was caught in some sort of Dateline sting. I told him Angel wasn’t here and asked him not to hang up. He stayed with me for a bit as I tried to get out of him where the ad was on Craig’s List.
“I don’t know anything about Craig’s List,” he repeated. “I’m just trying to reach my friend Angel. I’m sorry to have the wrong number.” Great stuff.
So, with the flurry of calls continuing today, my mission was to call Angel. Just to introduce myself, let her know I have some numbers for her and ask her to watch her typing skills next time she places an ad.
I think she was shocked that I called. And perhaps more shocked that I would give her the numbers. She was very friendly, and she apologized a few times, explaining that she knew the ad was wrong, but didn’t have access to a computer for a while to fix it.
No worries, I said. She even said that it’d be funny if I played along a bit with the callers. So, she had a good sense of humor about it.
She wanted the numbers, but I told her I needed to write them down for her, and that once I did, I’d give her a call back with the information.
I mean, hey, who am I to judge? Someone’s trying to make a living. Who am I to get in the way of the American dream?
What else? I got nothin’.