Fake House Calls

Yesterday, I was sitting and reading at home, when I got a rather amazing phone call. A man on the other end of the line -- who said his name was Dr. Kevin Johnson -- told me I had won... are you ready for it?... a house.

Yes, a house.

He said I'd entered my name in a computer somewhere, that he had the printout sitting in front of him, and that I'd really won. A house. For free. I just needed to come see him at his office.

Naturally, all the possible bells in my head were going off... loudly. A free house? Please. I'd entered my name in a drawing? No, sir. Naturally, I was tugged-at emotionally -- I really would LOVE to win a house, and I'd even fantasized about just that very thing happening -- but I wasn't that gullible. (Always hopeful, never blind -- that's my new motto.) I knew there was something fishy about this crazy call. I just didn't know what it was.

As it happened, we were planning to go for a walk later in the afternoon, so we thought... what the heck? Let's go by the guy's office and figure out exactly what his scam was. I mean, if the dude had my phone number -- not to mention the correct pronunciation of my name, which is perhaps not too shockingly rare among cold-callers -- what other information did he have? I wanted to track him down and try to find him to make sure he wasn't up to something even worse than a prank call.

So, off we set on our rambling. We strolled this way and that, popping our heads into a few cool stores, until we found ourselves in front of his office -- or, more accurately, where his office was SUPPOSED to be. He had given me an address -- 1819 New Hampshire Avenue NW -- that literally didn't exist. The numbers went from 1815 to 1825. Knowing already what would likely happen, I took out my cell phone and dialed the number he gave me: a wrong number. Dr. Kevin Johnson didn't exist.

At this point, you might be thinking I was pissed... but no, I wasn't. I was a little bit relieved that there wasn't some bigger financial scam going on, but mostly I was (you guessed it) grateful. Throughout the whole walk, we enjoyed a charming, dreamy conversation about what we should do with our new imaginary house, wondering how we'd decorate the new dwelling we knew was entirely fictitious. And then, when that game got old, we started outlining what might even become a cool play about a man who makes elaborate prank phone calls to get back at a lover who jilted him -- a legitimately interesting idea we might pursue further. Without Dr. Johnson's minor-league scam, we'd never have done any of that... and so I'm glad it happened.

Thank you, Dr. Johnson -- or whomever you are. But please don't call again -- once was enough.