Dear Woman who now has my old cell number,

I am very sorry that you were assigned a recycled phone number by Verizon a mere 30 days after I left Boston. I too have suffered this fate. I occassionally get a call from an 800 number verifying that I am Roxy. I assure the 800 number caller that I am not Roxy and explain that I have her old number. They try to verify my address, which is when I assure them since I am NOT Roxy, I do not live at her house.

This is annoying, without question. I wish the 800 number people would stop calling me. But alas, I cannot make them. I can only choose to answer the phone and tell them I am not Roxy or ignore the number because I do not recognize it and move on.

You, too, Oh Woman who now has my old cell number, have this choice. Apparently this is not enough for you. I am sorry that a few of my family members and perhaps friends have called my old cell number since I unexpectedly returned to the US in September. I think my Aunt did once, and my Dad did, too. (He was upstairs without his own cell phone and pulled my number out of his wallet. It was my old number.) So yes, a few people have mistakenly called you. A "this is not Karen's number anymore" or "this was Karen's old number" would have sufficed. But, no, oh mystery woman. You had to be really mean.

On my birthday, an Aunt called your number (my old number) and said "Karen?". You yelled, without missing a beat, "Karen's dead!" and hung up the phone. On my birthday. Lovely behavior.

And so, after learning that some of my family can't seem to record a new phone number, I called you to apologize. I dialed your number (my old number) and said to you, nicely, "Hi. I'm Karen. You have my old number." You yelled, "Yes, and tell all your family and friends to stop calling me! I'm sick and tired of it!" And you hung up.

I, of course, didn't know you hung up, so I launched into my little speech about how I was sorry some of my family and friends were being dumb and that I had in fact told everyone my new number and then I nicely asked you not to tell anyone else I had died. Only then did I realize you didn't hear any of it.

I called you three times in a row, and you hung up on me three times. The fourth time you yelled, "I don't have the money to talk to you. Stop calling." (On a Verizon plan on a Sunday. Clearly math isn't your forte.)

So I texted you. You can't hang up on a text. I said "Do not tell anyone else I'm dead." You got pissed and texted back something along the lines of you telling anyone you wanted whatever you wanted and that I was dumb for not telling everyone my new number and that not being your problem (but it IS your problem, isn't it?) and then you said I had no right to call you.

I had just gotten off the phone with Verizon, who I had called to register a complaint about their measly 30 day waiting period. It should be longer, don't you agree? I got your text and texted you back to say that you hadn't listened long enough to hear that I was calling to apologize and that I had talked to Verizon. I ended with "Please stop being so rude."

You, of course, didn't reply.

My sister and her husband begged me for the number so they could harrass you. You deserve it, frankly. But now you have my number and my first name and you could probably get me for harrassment if I let them do it, so I won't. But I wish I could.

You are a big huge bee-atch. I hope lots of people keep calling you looking for me. I didn't used to wish that, but now I do.

Sincerely,

Not Roxy, Karen, with a new number, who used to have your number