Do you ever have someone just bug the devil out of you without even knowing it?

I had it happen to me just the other day. It all began as I sat looking out the window at the feather-like snow wafting slowly to the ground outside my house.

I was trying to decide what to have for dinner. There were lots of canned beans and leftover roast with potatoes, but I was in the mood for something else. I already had eaten an egg sandwich for breakfast, so I ruled out that option. Egg sandwiches are one of my favorite things to eat almost any time. Almost anyone can cook an egg well, including me. Just give me a strip of fatback and an iron skillet and I will get them tastebuds to dancing.

However, beware the bulging midsection that was heretofore out of control. The war on fat is not going well at my house, however, I would say that hostilities have leveled off around 205 and things are holding steady. Perhaps things will improve as the weather improves.

I had just filled the stove up with wood and was sitting on the couch when the phone rang. I picked it up and gave my normal, "Yeah?"

That is how you answer the phone on a weekend when you are not supposed to be getting any calls. I automatically assume it is some unknown entity sent from the nether regions of the great beyond to make my life more complicated and more aggravating. I was right.

The voice on the other end of the line was a female, but not any female I knew. She was obviously confused, because she asked for someone named John. While that will work at a great number of the homes in America, it did not work at my house.

"The only John here is in the New Testament," I told her.

She thanked me and hung up the phone. Everyone makes mistakes and I have made several in my life, so I didn't think much of it.

A few minutes later, I went over to the refrigerator and got out the sliced turkey, pepperoni, mayonnaise, hot sauce, garlic dill slices, mustard and ham and made myself a sandwich. After slicing it in half diagonally (sandwiches seem to taste better that way to me), I poured myself a large glass of whole milk and sat down for dinner.

I hadn't even gotten through the "God is great, God is good, I sure do appreciate this sandwich" thing when the phone rang again. I went over and answered it.

"Is John there?"

"No, I am sorry, you have the wrong number,? I said. This time I went a little further. "This is 336-372-1474. Who are you trying to call?" She just said, "I am sorry. I will try back later." Then she hung up the phone.

Shaking my head, I went back to my sandwich on the counter, which was made with only the finest potato bread, aged at least one week atop my refrigerator with a hint of toasty firmness.

Upon devouring the first bite, I had forgotten all about my phone call. The sandwich was nearly divine. With my mouth completely stuffed with sandwich and milk dribbling slowly down my chin, imagine my surprise as the phone rang again.

I let it ring about four times and picked it up just as I swallowed the last bit.

"LaRue's Restaurant," I said. "This is John speaking. Today's special is locusts and wild honey. What can I get for you?"

I don't suppose I even need to tell you that it wasn't the wrong number..

Get more tongue in cheek commentary this week's issue of the Alleghany News!

Email: allnews@ls.net