It's been going on for two days, with great urgency. Someone in the state of Wyoming is trying desperately to call me but gets shy when I pick up the phone. Over and over, throughout the day and into the night, my phone trills. Caller ID says it's a number in the 307 area code. Wyoming, possibly the sole state so sparsely populated that it has only the single area code. Wyoming calling.
Sure, it's annoying and I could ignore the calls. But I'm drawn to the quiet on the other end when I answer. I have asked, "Are you in danger? Sneeze if so." I've cajoled, pleaded, badgered but all I get is silence on the other end until, after about six seconds, we are disconnected. I've tried calling back but get a recording that says the number is out of service. At 3:30 in the morning, awakened from a deep sleep here in Northern Virginia, I imagined all manner of activities taking place across the country in Wyoming. But mostly I felt relief that the calls weren't from a more familiar area code where friends and family reside. I know no one in Wyoming and yet, the phone keeps ringing.
Today I called Verizon to ask about blocking the calls. The operator, sympathetic and somewhat apologetic, explained that there had been a spate of calls to Virginia from Wyoming and that an investigation was underway to figure out why. I was vaguely disappointed that Wyoming had the entire state's number and not just mine. Apparently 307 has been pining for 703. Some kind of funhouse mirror activity? Perhaps we've created technology so advanced that it has gotten busy without us?
Whatever the explanation, I like to think that somewhere in area code 307 there lurks an individual so lonely, bored and possibly dyslexic that he or she is repeatedly dialing numbers in area code 703 hoping to make a connection of some sort, but then chickening out and hanging up. I won't mind when the calls stop -- after all, a woman needs her sleep. But there's something sort of lyrical about Wyoming Calling Virginia.