I just got a come-on call from a total stranger. I answered the phone, and a man introduced himself with a name, which I noted down, and started to spin this story about finding my name and phone number, with “Mensa” and an exclamation point, jotted down in a notebook, and he was cleaning out his paperwork and didn’t know why he had my number, and had no idea where he got it, and who I was, and he hated to throw it out because I might be a beautiful exciting person, and he hardly ever tells anyone he’s in Mensa…etc. He asked some personal questions, which I fielded, but wasn’t volunteering much information about himself, although I did get that he’s around my age and in San Francisco. It was just…strange. I didn’t recognize his name, and while I know lots of people all over the place, I don’t know of anyone who would give my phone number to a stranger. He sounded kind of desperate, and even made an allusion to how one of us might be interested in traveling across the country if it seemed like a possible relationship–he asked me if I “had ever been in the market” for a relationship. I dropped the Pagan connection (I have former covenmates living in S.F.), and he said he knew Pagans but didn’t say he was one. I couldn’t extract anything from him that gave me a clue as to why he might have my name and phone number written down in a notebook.
Anyway, I politely got him off the phone, and then tried *69. (Asking for his number would have implied interest, so I wasn’t going to do that upfront.) He was calling from a blocked number–but that’s true for lots of people. So I logged into Mensa’s website and looked him up in the member directory. Well…there is a member by that name, in San Francisco, whose profile is consistent with a man who just might cold-call a strange woman out of the blue…but, jeepers. I’m just not sure about his story, about finding my name in a notebook and all that–gods know, I have bits of paper with names and numbers and e-mails scattered about, going back years, that I can’t remember for the life of me who they are or why I wrote them down. But I probably wouldn’t call those people looking for a date!
It just seemed…strange. I’m not a prude, but I’m not stupid, either. I like to at least have exchanged some e-mails with a person on topics of mutual interest before I start talking about relationships and traveling 3000 miles to see them! For one thing: between the vampire side and the Pagan side, I have so much going on that tends to freak out mundanes, I really like to get that on the table right up front, and I tend to pursue contacts that come through those venues. This fellow lists among his interests in his Mensa profile, “Lifestyles: sexual freedom”–hey, me, too, but I’m free, not completely undiscriminating! Oh, arrggh.
I talked to my sister, who met her husband through Mensa, and she opines that the guy sounds harmless (I agree) and that Mensa has a lot of eccentrics (I agree) and that he doesn’t sound like he’s trying to be devious (I agree). It’s just that the whole found-your-number-in-a-notebook story is kind of weird. If he looked up my number after seeing my name online (it’s happened) or found me in the Mensa directory, well, okay–my phone number is findable. But I’d be more comfortable if someone would say that.
It probably sounds old-fashioned, but it feels much more comfortable if someone can say they got your phone number from somebody you both know, or some definite source where you know your number can be found, and not that they just discovered it lying around their house and must have just, I don’t know, channeled it?
4 Responses to Well, that was…weird