“Is that the Medical Centre?” The male voice was deep and gruff.
“No. You’ve got the wrong number.”
“No I haven’t, I dialed the Medical Centre.”
“I think you’ve dialed the last four numbers the wrong way round. You need 9898; you’ve dialed 8989.”
“The line must be crossed.”
“Well, try 9898 and you’ll get them.”
The line went dead.
“Who was that Darling?” my wife asked.
“Just the usual Sweetie, another wrong number for the Medical Centre. No apology.”
“Why can’t people be more careful?” she replied. “Or at least polite? That’s the fourth wrong number for the Doctors this morning?
“About that.”
Ring ring. Ring ring.
“Hello.”
After a click, the line went dead.
“Probably the same person,” I called out to my wife.
Ring, ring. Ring, ring.
“Hello again.”
“Why isn’t that the Medical Centre.” It was the same gruff voice.
“Probably would be if you dialed 9898 instead of 8989. So try 9898.”
“But I pressed redial. That’s meant to be the Medical Centre.”
“Not if you pressed the wrong numbers to begin with.”
“How come you’ve got the number for the Centre?”
“I haven’t. We get a lot of wrong miss-dialed numbers for them. So try 9898. That’s the number for the Medical Centre
“That’s what I dialed.”
“No you didn’t.”
The line clicked out.
“Same rude person, Sweetie.”
Ring, ring. Ring, ring.
“Hello. This is not the Medical Centre. Who would you like to speak to?”
“At last. I knew I was right. Can I make an appointment for this morning?”
“If you wish. Anyone in particular you want to see?”
“No, it’s not urgent.”
“Well, in that case why don’t you come straight away. Ask the nurse to do an ear check. That might solve many of the other problems as well.”
“O.K.” The line went dead.
“Same one?” asked my wife.
“Yes Dear.”
Ring, ring. Ring, ring.
“Hello.”
“Is Dr Brandenberg available this morning?” This time it was the voice of and elderly lady.
“I don’t know. You’ll have to ring the Medical Centre at 9898 to find out.”
“Because, I really need to see him about the pains in my legs. It’s something worse than the stomach thingy that he’s been treating me for.”
“Have you tried phoning 9898 for an appointment instead of 8989? You do know you’ve got the wrong number?”
“I don’t really mind what time I see him as long as it’s this morning. I have a bad heart too you see.”
“I see, perhaps you should pop in as soon as you can, first thing this morning.”
“Lovely, I’ll do that.”
“Ask the nurse to do a check of your ears too.”
“I will. Thank you very much. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
I looked at my wife as she walked into the room shaking her head in disbelief. “You know you could get into trouble for doing that.”
“How? I’m not holding out that I’m a medical practitioner.”
“No, but telling people to get their ears checked is wrong.”
“Well, you’ve answered the phone before; most of them don’t listen when I tell them they’ve got the wrong number.”
“I know, but the Medical Centre must get fed up with people just turning up claiming they’ve got appointments; and wonder why everyone wants their ears checked. Just leave the answer-phone on.”
“What? And miss my once in a life-time chance of an important call from the Prime Minister, or the President of the USA, seeking my advice. Not my damn fault they’re deaf.”
“You’re a bloody idiot. A child’s brain in a man’s body.” My wife gave me a one-fingered sign as she turned and left the room.