Shovelling snow in the front garden today, I felt my mobile buzzing in my pocket. I couldnt be bothered to answer; its too easy to lose all motivation if you stop to take a call, especially when theres barely any to start with. There must have been six inches of snow overnight, and who knows when itll stop. If its important, whoever it is will ring back.
Who could possibly want something at this hour? I thought.
By the fifth call, I finally gave innot out of curiosity, but really just so I could give a piece of my mind to whoever was harassing me. The number wasnt one I recognised.
But before I even get the first word out, I hear:
Hi, Oliver, its Rachel. Why havent you been answering?
My mind raced, trying to place a Rachel from somewhere in my life. The voice was a complete mystery to me.
Oh, hello, I replied awkwardlyjust in caseHands were full, shovelling out the snow in the drive and all that.
Fair enough. Sorry to bother you, but Im honestly at my wits end… I dont even know how to begin. Listen, do you remember that classmate of yoursRupert? Has he always been an idiot?
I was just about to say that I dont know any Ruperts and certainly never went to school with one, but she barreled on.
Can you believe it? The man wont leave me alone! Hes sent me friend requests using different names on every social media site, somehow got my number, and keeps calling all the time. The things he comes out with Hes completely off his rocker. Honestly, Im embarrassed to even say. First question he askeddont laughwas what kind of knickers I wear: style, colour, frequency of changing… Ive only met this bloke once in passing! Now Im supposed to tell him that I love black lace lingerie but cant stand thongs because they chafe something awful? How on earth do you say that to a stranger? Id die of embarrassment!
Well, quite. Sounds like a real degenerate, I answered, stifling a chuckle.
Exactly! I knew youd get it. Youre at least one normal bloke in my circle. And do you know what he started pressing me about next?
Let me guess that? I ventured, enjoying the oddity of it all now.
Oh, Oliver, youre brilliant! Spot on. For whole days hes pestered me about what sort of sex I like: rough or gentle, whether Im into foreplay, role play Just endlessly asking. What on earth did he expect, the idiot?
Expect?
That Id immediately spill that I think hands and bums are the sexiest parts, that Im all for snogging for hours, everywhere, and Im partial to whispered sweet nothings, or that my favourite is being on top, lights on, and I absolutely cant bear any kinkier nonsense.
But you didnt actually tell him all that, did you?
Of course not! Im not some tart who goes sharing personal business with every random man. Where do people like that even come from, Oliver? Can you believe, he even started asking when Im on my period. Completely mental! Probably thinks I announce to the whole town when my red days are duewhich, by the way, is next weekto warn everyone off in case Im cranky. What did he imagine?
Imagine what?
That Id fling myself into his arms at the drop of a hat.
Hes utterly bonkers, isnt he?
She burst out laughing.
He ought to be in a padded room. Besides, have you seen what he drives?
What?
An ancient Ford Sierra. Must be over twenty years old! What self-respecting woman would step foot in a heap like that?
At this point, I couldnt hide my amusement.
But you didnt get in with him, did you?
Oh, Oliver, youre a riot! I adore you. Anyway, Id better dashmy husbands just got in from work, and I suppose I ought to uphold my wifely duties. Ring you again soon, well have another natter. Youre just the best, Oliver.
And with that, she hung up.
Three days went by without a peep from her. Bored, I called the number back just for a laugh.
The answer came:
This number does not exist.
Who was she?
What on earth was that about?
I dont know any Rachels, and theres never been a Rupert in my life.
