My cell just rang. It was an LA area code.

Me: Hello?
Her: Hey there, it’s me! Oh I’m so glad I caught you. How are you doing, honey?
Me: Oh, just fine. [fuck, who is this? I'm sure I'll recognize her voice soon.] How are you doing?
Her: Oh my gosh, I’m just fine, but wow! I just walked in the door and is it ever pouring outside. It is just raining cats and dogs down here lately!
Me: Oh, really? [Who the hell is this? Do I know this person?]
Her: Yes, it’s been so stormy down here lately, people are just freaking out! I have to laugh just a little and tell folks to calm down — it’s just rain! Clearly they’ve never been to Seattle.
Me: Totally. [Fuck, I must know this person. They know I live in Seattle.]
Her: So, how are you doing these days?
Me: Just fine.
Her: I heard that Shane called and I just wanted to give you a call back really quick.
Me: Oh. [Who the fuck is Shane? I totally don't know this person! I've been having a whole conversation with some woman in the San Fernando Valley who I totally don't know. Shit!] Um, well, listen: Tim is over right now, so I should probably go.
Her: Oh, of course! Did I call Shane’s number or your number?
Me: Um. Mine. [Shit, shit, shit. This is too weird. I have to get off the phone. NOW.]
Her: Oh honey, I’m sorry. Well, I’ll talk to you later, ok? Great to chat!
Me: Ok. Bye!
Her: Bye!

Even worse? Tim and Andreas got to witness this whole embarassing case of mistaken identity.

My friends always get on my case for demanding “WHO IS THIS?” when they call and don’t give me their name (ie, “Hi, it’s me”). Wouldn’t you know that one of the few times that I decide to roll with the telephone punches, I end up spending a minute talking to an absolute stranger who thinks I know Shane.

It’s funny: I used to be a phone person. Then along came the interweb, and now the phone is almost a little scary to me.