Actual Customer came in a couple of weeks ago and ordered some books from me. I took down his name, number, and the books he wanted.
Last week, Actual Customer's books came in. By the time I got around to special orders, it was too late to call anyone, so I put it in a bag with his name and phone number, with a note that he be called.
Yesterday, I noticed that someone had written "Wrong Number" on the bag, and I sighed
Today, after an annoying Staples visit, Actual Customer was waiting for me in the hallway.
AC: "Hey, I ordered some books and was told I would be called when they came in."
Me: "Yea. They came in last week, but we must have written down the wrong number for you."
We walk into the store, I grab the bag with his name and number on it, and hand it to him.
AC: "That Is my phone number."
Me: "Weird. Maybe we dialed the wrong number when we called. Sorry."
He pays for his books and walks out, leaving his credit card behind.
Luckily, he also left behind the bag with his number on it. The number he just verified.
It's Not The Right Number.
He comes back half an hour later, looking for his card.
Me: "I tried to call you, but the number you gave us goes to someone else."
AC: "That is my number, though."
I pick up the phone and call it. It rings. The same justifiably annoyed woman answers the phone.
AC: "Do I not know my own phone number?"
Me: "All signs point to No."
AC takes out his phone. "Excuse me, I have to call someone, so they can tell me what my--- Can I see that number again? That's my Mom's number." He calls the number. "Hi, mom. If someone calls looking for me, could you just give them my number? No. No. It was important. Because that was my phone number for the first twenty-three years of my life. I won't. I WON'T. Ok. Yea. Bye." Puts his phone in his pocket. "So my number is, damn it, I forgot to ask her what my number is."