Who is Eligio?
Last night at around 1 am, I get a call on my cell phone.
Unknown name, restricted number
Thinking it's my mom, I answer the phone.
A lady with a thick Italian accent says, "Hi, is your husband home?"
"Uhm, no.", I say "I don't have a husband. I think you have the wrong number."
A hestitant Italian woman says, "uhm, no. This is the number I have from some man who call."
"Well, I'm sorry I'm not even old enough to be married, you have the wrong number."
And so the phone call ends.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Mike and I continue to watch an already intense episode of Lost and the cell rings again.
905-___-_____
Well, it's not that Italian woman again. So, I answer my cell.
A man with a thick Italian accent says, "Hi who this is?"
"Uhm, you called ME...who is this???"
He says, " you left a message on my machine, what is your name?"
"If I left a message on your machine, I would have left my name, no?...you obviously have the wrong number. I didn't leave any message on your machine, I don't even know who you are."
"Do you speak Italian?"
"No, I don't speak Italian" (WHAT THE FUCK?! is going on in my head.)
"What city do you live in?"
I say, "I really don't feel comfortable telling you this information. You obviously have the wrong number so I'm going to go now."
"I will find out who you are" he says. aaaaaaand. that is when I hang up on creepy Italiano man.
-------------------------------------------------------------
next morning.
I wake up with a voicemail on my cell phone. I check it and I freak out some more when it's a message from the Italian stalker.
"Hi, SYLVIA" (he says, obviously finding out my name from my greeting message)
"My name is (?) Horatio, Eleechio (?)" [sounds like something like that]
then he proceeds to give me his phone number and asks me to call him back. He provides 2 numbers. One 416 number, and another 1-800 number to call him "collect"
Seriously though....what the fuck?! Who the fuck is this guy and why is he harassing me!!!
So all day this has been freaking me out. After telling this story to many people, my frosh Adam suggests that I type in the phone number in google.
The Result:
ITAL FLORIST in Etobicoke.
www.italflorist.com >> they even have a website. After a little more research, I find out his name is Eligio Paris and he is the "president" of the Flower shop.
Seriously, why are you calling me?!
a) I never ordered flowers from you
b) Why would you call a potential client at 1 in the morning
c) I do NOT want flowers from you
d) FUCK OFF already!!
If he calls back again, it's go-time. I just hope he doesn't send his mafia after me or something. AGH!
At least I know who the man is, but who was that mysterious woman?
Unknown name, restricted number
Thinking it's my mom, I answer the phone.
A lady with a thick Italian accent says, "Hi, is your husband home?"
"Uhm, no.", I say "I don't have a husband. I think you have the wrong number."
A hestitant Italian woman says, "uhm, no. This is the number I have from some man who call."
"Well, I'm sorry I'm not even old enough to be married, you have the wrong number."
And so the phone call ends.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Mike and I continue to watch an already intense episode of Lost and the cell rings again.
905-___-_____
Well, it's not that Italian woman again. So, I answer my cell.
A man with a thick Italian accent says, "Hi who this is?"
"Uhm, you called ME...who is this???"
He says, " you left a message on my machine, what is your name?"
"If I left a message on your machine, I would have left my name, no?...you obviously have the wrong number. I didn't leave any message on your machine, I don't even know who you are."
"Do you speak Italian?"
"No, I don't speak Italian" (WHAT THE FUCK?! is going on in my head.)
"What city do you live in?"
I say, "I really don't feel comfortable telling you this information. You obviously have the wrong number so I'm going to go now."
"I will find out who you are" he says. aaaaaaand. that is when I hang up on creepy Italiano man.
-------------------------------------------------------------
next morning.
I wake up with a voicemail on my cell phone. I check it and I freak out some more when it's a message from the Italian stalker.
"Hi, SYLVIA" (he says, obviously finding out my name from my greeting message)
"My name is (?) Horatio, Eleechio (?)" [sounds like something like that]
then he proceeds to give me his phone number and asks me to call him back. He provides 2 numbers. One 416 number, and another 1-800 number to call him "collect"
Seriously though....what the fuck?! Who the fuck is this guy and why is he harassing me!!!
So all day this has been freaking me out. After telling this story to many people, my frosh Adam suggests that I type in the phone number in google.
The Result:
ITAL FLORIST in Etobicoke.
www.italflorist.com >> they even have a website. After a little more research, I find out his name is Eligio Paris and he is the "president" of the Flower shop.
Seriously, why are you calling me?!
a) I never ordered flowers from you
b) Why would you call a potential client at 1 in the morning
c) I do NOT want flowers from you
d) FUCK OFF already!!
If he calls back again, it's go-time. I just hope he doesn't send his mafia after me or something. AGH!
At least I know who the man is, but who was that mysterious woman?
posted by syl at 10:53 p.m.
6 Comments:
hey, nice new blog.
thats quite the story btw.
i love how italian was synoymous with mafia
as if the russians, germans, greek or KOREANS don't have a mafia(s)
just because the man is italian, doesn't mean he's in the mafia, ya heaaaaaard
if he calls again, just forward the call to my dad, he'll take care of things ;)
hahahah.. that's so funny and incredibly random
you were pretty brave, syl. I get soo creeped out if I don't recognize a person's voice immediately, let alone when they call back over and over.
maybe you should call them and order mike some orchids or something. I like this blog way better, but I liked the cute hand/heart graphics on your old one too.
blogging's for weenies
maybe someone who doesnt know you but wants to know you ordered you flowers, but didnt know your name just your number because you bought pizza from him sometime or something. Wanting to know your name, he put his italian flower owning uncle to the test of getting the appropriate information to send you your favorite bouquet in hopes of spawning a new love in the heart of north west toronto.
im getting a little etobichoked up here.
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