I do love wrong numbers. I've just had a call from a woman who asked if I'm Richard. I said no, so she said "Richard Thomas?", as though she expected me to say "Oh, hang on, yes I am". Having established that I'm not, and there's no one here by that name, she pressed on regardless and asked "Is that not the old bakery?". I said no. She said "Really?".
Honestly, she sounded so convincing, I started looking around for bread. I can only assume she'd got wind of the amount of hot cross buns Lisa's got in the freezer. Either that or she's a fan of John-Boy from The Waltons.
Anyhoo, she's lucky she caught me at home, because I've been out all morning doing some important charity work. I've successfully boosted the funds of Marie Curie Cancer Care by generously donating some money in return for various items of junk from the shop around the corner. Interestingly, having learnt of her existence almost two years ago, I found a book by the fantastically named Lisa Gardner. It was only 50p, which is handy as I wouldn't pay more than a pound for anything written by someone with that surname (a view shared, it would seem, by most of the English speaking world).
But even more exciting is that I found a book worth ten pounds which I ordered from Amazon on January 9th as a present for Lisa. They gave me an estimated delivery time of 4-6 weeks (I think they were going to send it by tortoise), but it still hasn't arrived. So I bought it for a pound from the charity shop, came home and successfully cancelled my order with Amazon before they charged my credit card. I've saved myself a fortune. And I've helped cure cancer. Life doesn't get any better than that.