Phone Paranoia

The “Unknown” calls come twice a day.  I never answer them.  This morning after my morning “Unknown” a call came from Ohio.  Just a few minutes later there was one from Virginia.  Annoyed, I answered it, just to tell them to leave me alone.

Remember when the phone used to ring and you didn’t know who it was.  If I missed a phone call I could wonder all day who it might have been. Often my mind would make the most of it, imagining a relative or friend in a horrible accident reaching out for help.  And I missed the call.

Now, if it’s not a name or number I know on the screen of my phone I don’t answer it.  In my experience, it’s usually always someone asking for money.

So when I answered the call from Virginia, I was ready to tell them not to call me again.  And when the male voice asked for Maria Heinrich (my name from my first marriage) it was easy for me to tell him he had the wrong number and hang up.

But then the phone rang again.  Same caller.

With even less patience I answered the phone for the second time.  The man was looking to buy a quilted hot pad, had bought some before from someone at this number.  He repeated my phone number then asked if this was “Yes No Quilts”.

That got my attention, the name of my first business, my former name and hot pads or what I call potholders.  I put it all together then suspiciously asked how he got my phone number.

He had it from the last time he bought potholders from me  ( had to be seven or eight years ago and I’ve never sold my work over the phone) and now he wanted to buy  some more.

Now that I think about it, I’m surprised that he didn’t hang up on me.  I was using my Who are you, What do you want and Don’t come any closer voice,  not my customer service voice.

I finally got it when he told me he wanted to buy 8 potholders.  That he wasn’t online much and wanted something to give  to his nieces when they stopped in over the next couple of  weeks for Christmas.

I gave him a price and apologized for hanging up on him the first time.  We agreed that he’d send a check and I’d send the potholders.

But when I hung up the phone I was still suspicious.  It made no sense, I mean, if he had emailed me it would have been the same transaction, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it.  But because he called me on the phone I didn’t trust him.  I even went so far as to Google his name.

When did talking on the phone become a dangerous thing?

Even though I was having a hard time trusting Doug, he trusted me.  A new name for me and my business, a hostile greeting and he was buying my potholders without even seeing them.  Believing that I’d mail them to him.

It turns out that Doug and I talked a few more times that morning.

After I got over my phone paranoia, I called him back and offered to take his credit card number and use my Square to process it.   I usually only use my Square at the Open Houses.  The charges to use it without swiping the card (by entering the numbers manually as I would do over the phone or with email) are a lot higher and cut into my profit too much.  But Doug told me his family would start visiting next week and especially after all that happened, I wanted to get the potholders to him as soon as possible.

It still makes me smile and shake my head when I think about it.  That I’ve come to a place in my life where a phone call can cause such suspicion and mistrust.  I didn’t even realize I felt this way.

Email is a lot easier and more efficient, but there was something nice about hearing Doug accent too.   Something I never think about when I’m emailing someone from a different part of the country or even a different part of New York State.   I “hear” emails in my own accent no matter where they’re from.

I put the potholders in the mail this afternoon, Priority, so they’d get there in time for Doug to give out as gifts.

I’m going to be thinking about this one for a while.