DAZE WORK: Sorry, wrong number ...

Ever vigilant about my cellphone, I just don’t give out my number willy-nilly. I never answer numbers I don’t recognize. And I certainly don’t bite on click bait.

Then the other day I was reading a story on Twitter, and when I got to the end there were all these other stories to click on to keep reading. One caught my eye with the headline “People on Social Security in Indiana can get $300 a month for groceries,” click here.

So I did, you know I did. I bit on that teaser, hook, line and sinker. I clicked on it almost unconsciously and started responding to their every question: Name, email address, phone number, birth date ... But then when it asked for my Social Security number, I regained my senses, sputtered, “No way, Jose” and closed the item on my screen.

But it was too late. I’d let my guard down and they’d gotten enough info out of me. Within the first hour I had received 23 calls to my cellphone, literally one after another, all from places obviously wanting to pitch Medicare insurance plans to me. I don’t even need the insurance. I still work fulltime and take the insurance Rust Publishing offers.

Hanging up on those calls or just letting them ring themselves out, it was insane how they just kept coming. Since unanswered numbers or potential spam show up in red type in my phone log, I have kept track of them as they’ve continued. Twenty-six in the last month alone, among them calls from Muncie, Richmond, Yorktown, Manilla, Battleground, Summitville, Mount Summit, Albany, Indianapolis and Rosedale in Indiana, along with Lake Orion, Mich., Winchester, Va., and several unknowns.

A good friend of mine says scammers and telemarketers have gotten so good they can clone local numbers in an attempt to entice you into answering your phone more readily. He should know. He got a call from himself one day. Never told me if he answered. Probably looked at the screen and muttered something like, “I don’t want to talk to that guy.”

The other day my phone rang about mid-day when I was expecting a call from the cardiologist’s office. Instead, I looked down to see “Styling Station” as the caller.

Well, I don’t know anybody at the Styling Station who would even have my cellphone number. My favorite hair person hasn’t worked there in a few years. So I didn’t answer, although later I thought about how clairvoyant that must have been since I was in desperate need for a haircut at the time, not having gotten one since late August. I ended up going elsewhere ... They say even the worst haircuts will grow out. But that’s another story. I chalked up the call as a mis-dial.

At this point it’s obvious I am ignoring more calls than I am answering. While my upbringing tells me that’s rude, I’m not going to listen to a bunch of sales pitches I didn’t solicit.

So what to do? What to do?

Oops, I’ll have to get back to you on that. My phone’s ringing ...

The caller ID says the last four digits are 5866. That was my home number/land line for about 40 years, although I haven’t had it for at least 10.

As they say in the horror films, “it’s coming from inside the house ...”

I’ll just hang up now. Goodbye.