First of all, you'll need to go to THIS ENTRY I did way last January, so you'll know who "ole Darryl" is. Basically, he's the former owner of my cell phone number. And obviously, he was quite popular.
I've never been one to enjoy talking on a phone; I got the cell phone because Cliff worried about me riding my horse out in the boonies with nobody around, and he just figured he'd feel better if he had a way to keep in touch.
In spite of the fact I don't enjoy telephone talking, that stupid thing rang constantly when I first got it. I'd hear things like this: "Is Darryl there?" "Could I speak to Darryl 'the licker'?" "Let me talk to Darryl Walliker."
This went on several times a day forever. At least 3/4 of the callers sounded young, giggly, and female.
It's been a year, and I hadn't had a call for Darryl in a couple of months until this week. Now it's started again.
Tonight my cell phone rang, I answered, and a man said, "Could I talk to Darryl?"
"Darryl hasn't had this number in a year; I don't know him, but I wish you'd quit calling this number."
"Well now, how would I know not to call this number?"
"You call yourself a friend?" I asked. "It's been a year, and you're just now trying to get in touch with Darryl?"
Beam me up, Scotty.