About three times a week, I get a voice mail on my cell phone for “Jackie Rasha.” Who is Jackie Rasha, you ask? Well, apparently Jackie Rasha is the subject of a search by a collection agency—and it seems that I have her old cell phone number.
When I first started getting these messages, I did my due diligence and called back the company to let them know that I was not, in fact, Jackie Rasha. However, the calls never stopped, so I finally just gave up and accepted the fact that the company doesn’t seem to care, since they obviously think I am her. At some point I even started wondering, maybe I am Jackie Rasha.
Anyway, the voice mail usually starts with the name “Jackie Rasha” in this funky computerized voice that sounds really drawn out—like “Jaaaaaaaaaackie Rrrrahhhhhhsha.” For some reason, I find that voice really funny. So of course, I started calling Iwanski “Jackie Rasha”—especially when he does or says something that I consider silly.
Then Iwanski started calling me Jackie Rasha. Now, we call each other Jackie Rasha on an almost daily basis.
The other day, we were walking down the street, calling each other by Ms. Rasha’s name—and I said to Iwanski, “What if someday we’re calling each other Jackie Rasha, and the real Jackie Rasha walks past and hears us saying her name?” What would she say? What would we say?
Just in case that ever happens, we should probably stop calling each other by her name.
But I’ve gotten pretty used to saying it, and the computerized voice is just so damn funny.
Oh Jackie Rasha, you have no idea how much your name has amused us.
And I’ll bet you all had no idea how little it really takes to amuse Iwanski and Miss Healthypants.