He had been given his first mobile phone for his 18th birthday and had just discovered text messaging.
He made up a random number and sent off a message saying “hello”, to which his future wife Kirsty wrote back “hi”.
They said: “That single moment led to over 20 years of love, laughter, and partnership.”
Out of several messages to unknown numbers he sent from the Coventry pub where he was working that night, Kirsty in Cleethorpes was the only one to reply.
In 2002, the couple got married in Scotland, where Kirsty is from, and now have two children, aged six and nine.
War-dialing for waifus?
I got a couple random spicy pics sent to me back in the day. Like a responsible person I said “nice tits” and deleted them, but apparently I should have texted “nice tits” back instead.
I just get restraining orders.
At least one part of the system still works
This kinda reminds me of my late grandmother. She had made friends with a woman named Gaye by accidentally calling the same wrong number repeatedly (it was one digit off from a relative’s number). They were friends for decades, but I don’t believe they ever met in person.
Hit that lotto
It was a bit of a trip, in case anyone else is wondering:
…I have absolutely no idea what thought process this gif is trying to convey.
The whole thing of sending a text to a random number and not being quagmired…
I really miss wrong number texts. It was nice to text someone you didn’t know. Now its all phishing and no fun.
Yeah used to talk to an old man once a year when he try call his daughter on her birthday and got me instead. Was nice we talk for an hour.
Now every fucking local number is phishing and scams. I fucking can’t stand getting calls.
Stuff that would only ever happen in the 2000’s right there. Back when it was “normal” to text your so-called number neighbours - the number one digit above and below yours.
Now, people are a little bit more switched on so would probably think it’s a phishing scheme, or devices would probably screen it out as a scam.
I remember my dad would answer the phone with “Feffertown 5841, Augustus Hossenfeffer speaking.”
Now I answer the phone with a sullen and suspicious “Hello?”
Off topic, but I rarely get to answer the phone these days. Not through choice, but ever since I enabled the automatic blocking of withheld numbers it has made my life so much quieter. That, and my workplace only ever calls out from a withheld number, which is fuckin’ magic.
In ye olde days though, our household used to answer with the name of the town and the three digit identifying number for that line.
Blink twice if you’re safe.
