So I just get this phone call, right.
"[My RL first name!]"
I go, naturally enough, it being my first name and all,
The tone is familiar, but I don't recognize the voice...
"It's David! How are you, darling?"
"David!..." I repeat, trying frantically to remember if I still know any Davids.
As he continues to talk, I figure, oh, shit, of course, it's one of those stupid salespeople trying a new trick, I hate that shit, I'm
about to hang--wait, WHAT?
"...I've got the photos. Something mumble crushing the bugs with the Manolo Blahniks."
"I beg your pardon?" I say, as politely as I can.
A slight pause.
"Is this [my first name?]"
Me, slightly wary now, even though I've already said "yes."
"[My first name] [a last name that's not remotely mine]?"
Ah. "No, I'm sorry."
"Oh, you're kidding. Is this San Francisco?"
"Is this...[gives a phone number that isn't mine, although close]"
"No, I'm afraid it's not."
"Oh, my God. I'm sorry..."
Me, laughing, even as I'm thinking this is probably a mistake,
"Well, you got it partly right..."
"Oh, your name is [my first name?] Oh, you're kidding..."
"Mm. Anyway, it -was- the wrong number, so--"
"I'm a photographer. From England."
"Yes, well, it -was- the wrong number, try again, and good luck with that," and I hung up.
So, whether this was some weirdass crank call or a weirdass semi- coincidence: how many times do you get some random caller talking to you about crush porn? With Manolo Blahniks, yet. I mean, as these things go, it's a lot more interesting than heavy breathing...