Within forty-eight hours I’ve received two phone calls that I’ve missed from the same unfamiliar number. Most unknown numbers I receive are of my own area code and turn out to be misdials. Occasionally it will be a friend calling me from a new cell phone. My guess as to who this particular mystery caller was is that is of the latter case, because these calls were coming in from an area code that I had never seen before.
As an information lover, I love the Internet. You can find anything (almost). So, I set out on a journey to find the land of the “210” area code. That land, faithful reader, was Texas.
Texas?!? Only steers and queers come from Texas, and I don’t think it was a steer that was calling me. No, but really, I don’t know anyone out there in the Lone Star state. Do I? I turned again to the sage I so oft turn to, the Internet (again), and tried to narrow down a location. Area code “210”, prefix “677” is San Antonio. Um, that did nothing to help me.
I suppose I could just call the number and be done with this, but it’s awkward not to know who you’re calling. Why don’t people leave voice mails, anyway? I’ll admit I hate leaving them because I hate the way my voice sounds on recording, but I (and everyone else) should just accept that our voices sound that way off the tape, too! I’m hoping, ultimately, that the mystery caller will just call back today or be a bigger man than I and begin to leave voice mails.
San Antonio, huh? Does my destiny lie there? Ironically, St. Anthony is the patron saint of seekers of lost items. I’m looking for an unknown stranger who is calling me, so I suppose this falls under his jurisdiction…if you’re watching over me, St. Ant., I could use some intercession! Amen.
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