We all get wrong number phone calls, I even wrote about one the other week in which I was mistaken for the mysterious Cerys Mitchell. It’s easy to do, especially in this age of the push-button telephone.
But wrong emails are another matter. I’ve obviously received lots of spam in my inbox, but never an email conversation from one of my contacts destined for someone else.
Until today. The first one:
J, I told you to get that f****** copy in yesterday and it’s still not here!
I write back,
Hi, that message isn’t destined for me. See you Friday.
He returns with:
Don’t f*** with me, I’m deadly serious: need the copy now!
I write back:
Seriously, it’s not J. It’s L. You’ve got us mixed up or something. See you Friday.
If you don’t send me that f****** attachment RIGHT THIS MINUTE I swear I will come down to Luton and get wicked on your arse with a corkscrew. And that’s just for starters.
It’s just as well I know this emailer and the fact he’s a 24 carat wimp (Hi N, gulp), else I might actually be scared right now for somebody in Luton. Especially since I’m pretty sure the offending J lives in Hackney.
“Wicked on your arse” though – using that…
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