The Time My Phone Got Switched with a Detective’s

I haven’t told too many people this story, mostly because it became kinda dangerous to talk about…

I think it’s okay now though. Probably.

nerves

So when I worked as a receptionist I would get a LOT of phone calls. My job was to transfer the call to the right department, which was usually easy but some of the weirder ones were more of a puzzle. Like there were multiple types of IT departments for some reason? And also a lot of people would just straight up give you some weird story that made you want to transfer them to the hang-up department.

Well, one day some of my phone calls started getting weirder than normal.

I’m not even sure what the first one was about. It was in Spanish, which I speak… but that didn’t make me any less confused. The guy was like stressing out about some kind of fine or ticket or something? He was trying to access his criminal records or something. I was like, Bro, this is a printer company… Which just pissed him off worse and he kept repeating that this was the number that the police officer had given him. I hung up like, huh… that was weird. But it just got WEIRDER AND WEIRDER.

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I answer the phone and this guy asks for a detective with a really distinct last name. I don’t feel comfortable publicly disclosing that name, so I’ll just call him Detective Benitez.

Me: *Printer Company Name* This is Valerie. How may I direct your call?
Man: Put me on with Benitez.
Me: … Um. I’m sorry. There’s no one here by that name.
Man: Is this 801-bla-blah?
Me: … yes, that’s my personal line.
Man: Oh are you his assistant then?
Me: I’m a receptionist at a printer company…
Man: Oh, the receptionist. Well, can you deliver him a message?
Me: … uh–
Man: Tell him to stop f—ing harassing me because I never f—ing assaulted her in the first place.
Me: …
Man: Tell him Dale says that.
Me: K. Will do.

I would get these kinds of calls all the time. BUT ONLY ME. The other receptionist’s phone wouldn’t ring because they weren’t calling the main line they were calling me DIRECTLY. And sharing very weird personal incriminating information.

So anyways, one Monday I come in and the little light on my phone is blinking and I’m like… nah fam. Like the only way I have a message on my PERSONAL PHONE is if it’s for this Benitez guy. So I already knew what it was.

I was not prepared for what I was about to hear.

On my phone was a message from a woman relaying some key information about a murder.

onesheet.jpg

K. Now, I know all y’all Criminal Mind bingers are like ooh how interesting. Nah. This scared the … swear word out of me. I felt like I WAS a witness just by association of this event. Like now I had sensitive information that a psycho would not appreciate me having. And this murder was particularly dangerous too… (lol that was dumb, all murders are dangerous. But just know that it was a crazy enough one that my now involvement made me feel really uncomfortable!)

So we tracked down the real detective to give him this super important message. The detective took one look at his business cards and *whoops* TYPO. His number had been printed one digit off and he was doling my number all around town

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So that happened! Because my phone number got mixed up I had to deliver some significant evidence to a detective. And if you’re wondering if I would ever turn that premise into a book. UH-YEAH! Of course I will! I even kinda thought it would be fun to set it in the sixties and have it be about a serial killer who entices girls by pretending to be one of the Beatles… HAHAHAHA! Is that dumb?? I’ve never told anyone that idea before. It just kind of blurted out of my fingertips there.

Anyways! I try to often post about crazy stories, embarrassing stories, um stupid book ideas and stuff. Subscribe to follow along if you want more!

 

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