searching...

9:57 am, the phone rings...

Me: Hello
Stranger: Hi, uh um is David Taylor there?

Okay, so the person on the other line does not sound like a telemarketer, nor anyone that I could possibly know.

Me: This is David Taylor
Stranger: Um, I'm not sure if I have the right number.
Me: Okay
Stranger: I'm actually looking for my father... (with a voice full of hope)

All of a sudden I'm struck with a deep sadness for what seems to be an older teenage boy, randomly calling all the David Taylor's listed in the phone book searching for his father.

Me: Oh, that's not me, sorry.
Stranger: Sorry, he has the same name as you.

Rushing through my head are all these good, positive, encouraging things to say, but I can't or won't or just didn't do it in time.

Me: Sorry
Stranger: Sorry, bye
Me: Bye