IRL Fail

I'm thinking the IRL's might be a thing for me in the future. I think they are hilarious, so I might keep doing them. In the meantime, here's a story from earlier.

Nicole (my wife, if I forgot to introduce her) and I are cleaning the house and rocking out to some music. The song currently playing is "5150", a country song by Dierks Bentley.  During the song, Nicole gets a call and lets it go to voicemail, despite my attempt to answer it. She has no idea who it is, since it's a 863 number. I tell her to check the voicemail, as it's a Menominee number.

She picks it up and checks the message; Turns out it is from Menominee. It's from Menominee County Police Department, to be exact. Turns out she had butt-dialed (Ha Ha, Butt.) 911 while we were cleaning up. The call was hung up immediately afterwards, and by policy, they must call back to make sure the person calling is okay. Since no one answered, they were going to send a car out here to double-check if everything was fine.

Insert Awkward Silence Here. Let it sit for a bit- let it Mature, if you will. Okay.

She calls back to explain what happened. I start chuckling to myself while I listen to this police drama unfold. (Is that the proper tense? Unfold... Unfolding... Whatever.) The operator is relieved to hear that all is well. Even the officers sent to help us are happy, as they were going to somewhere down in the boonies. Since Nicole made the call from a cell phone, the attempt to trace the call ended at the local cell tower for the next 50 or so miles. Had she not called back, the officers would never have known who made the call and would be stuck wondering what had happened while standing next to a giant metal structure.

Yeah, I kinda broke out laughing at this point. Between the song and the tower, I couldn't hold it. This story does not mean I am infallible, by far. I just don't remember... OH YES I DO. Oh, this one time, involving a cherry-flavored energy drink.... NAH. Another time. I'm sleepy. (Cliffhanger!)