Call Me
While eating lunch at the 'Rang not long ago, I heard the pleasing strains of my Green Day ring tone as someone called me on my cell. Glad I didn't put down my BLT to take the call, because I just listened to a voicemail from someone in the 978 who thought my name was Dave, that I was going to buy a condo in North Redding, and that I was interested in getting some financing. It is not, I am not, and I am not.

Now, I don't get a lot of wrong number calls on my cell, but the Ethicist reader in me wonders whether I'm now responsible to call the fellow back and set him straight that he didn't actually leave a message for Dave. What if Dave doesn't get the financing for the condo purchase because I got this voicemail?

Debate over. I just returned the call.

Media Diet: Hi. I just got a voicemail from this number from someone who was calling about condo financing, and I wanted to let you know it was a wrong number.
Receptionist: Do you know who called?
Media Diet: All I know is that they were calling some guy named Dave and that the condo is in North Redding. They didn't leave their name.
Receptionist: Oh, I wouldn't even know where to begin if you don't know who called.
Media Diet: Well, I just thought you should know. I didn't want this guy to lose the opportunity because of a wrong number, you know?
Receptionist: Oh, well, thanks for calling.
Media Diet: I tried.

Dave, I hope you find the financing you need to buy the condo of your dreams. I did my best.