You know what you spend most of your time doing when you are recently retired? Besides noodling around on the innernets, I mean. And driving to town risking life and limb on narrow roads frequented by semi truck flatbed trailers loaded with giant rocks so you can pick up a 44 oz Diet Coke and email yourself pictures from your camera because SPRINT is a piece of work, and only gets 4G (or ANY G) in town.
You spend most of your retirement time answering the phone. From your loving husband who can apparently see through the land lines and calls the moment you plop down in his La-Z-Boy with a bowl of oatmeal, after just washing a sink of dishes and boiling a dozen eggs, necessitating you to jump up and run to the phone too late before the answering machine picks up. Or picking up calls on both land line and cell phone from numbers with wonky area codes. At least you do if you have a son who is 18-going-on-13, recently dropped off in the wilds of Oklahoma to fend for himself. Just in case, you know, it might be some kind of emergency.
Funny how those calls are not all that important. Because Farmer H simply wants to know how you're doing. I can only imagine him contemplating whether to tell me to "Go towards the light," or "Get up out of my La-Z-Boy and build some trusses for a roof to join my freight containers, Woman!"
The call to my cell phone was a breather. I didn't actually hear anyone breathe. But it sounded like an open connection. Within 60 seconds, the land line rang. Having already gone crawling back to my estranged BFF Google once today, I sought advice on this second number, and discovered that it's the Windows Computer People! Eager to help me with my computer security problems, as they have selflessly helped tens of other people this week with theirs!
These scammers must be working together. If you answer one bogus call on your cell phone, the next one calls your land line. You know, to verify that it's a working number so they can sell it to other scammers. I wouldn't be surprised if they're not watching me through my computer screen. Wait. The one for New Delly doesn't have a camera. But I need to tape over that one on my Shiba laptop upstairs. Which might wreak havoc with the Skype session The Pony is planning when he's not too busy eating Papa John's pizza and stalking coeds from Chemistry class.
It's a wonder I can get anything done all day.