Hello and welcome to another episode of the CRS podcast.
This is a special episode commemorating the birthday of our lead producer Andrew.
In this episode, a man named John changes his phone number which was previously owned by a woman
named Emily who weighs in a family group chat. Instead of clarifying the mistake, John decides
to have some fun by stirring up drama, taking sides in family debates and dropping vague bombshells
like having a mysterious boyfriend. Anyway, let's jump into the episode. When I decided to change
my phone number, I thought it would be a fresh start. No more spam calls, no random texts from
people I didn't know, and definitely no more late night drunken, hey you up, messages from people
I'd rather not hear from. The process was straightforward and within minutes I had a
shiny new number that was uniquely mine or so I thought. The first inkling that something was
off came about a day later. I received a barrage of texts from an unknown group chat. At first,
I assumed it was a mistake, but as I scrolled through, I realized this was no random group.
It was a full blown family chat. People were sharing pictures of babies, discussing who was
hosting Thanksgiving, and even arguing about whose potato salad recipe was superior. I was about to
leave the group chat quietly when I noticed the messages were addressed to someone named Emily.
That's when it clicked. This phone number wasn't as fresh as I thought. It used to belong to this
Emily person, and she clearly hadn't informed her family about the change. Thought about doing
the responsible thing and letting them know they had the wrong number. But where's the fun in that?
Instead, I decided to have a little fun. After all, it's not every day you're handed the keys
to someone else's family drama. The first thing I did was pick a side in the ongoing potato salad
debate. I texted, let's be real, Aunt Karen's potato salad is basically just mayonnaise soup
with chunks of sadness in it. Instant chaos. Aunt Karen fired back with a passive aggressive. Well,
excuse me Emily, but I didn't see you offering to make anything at the last family picnic. Uncle Mike
jumped in with a laughing emoji saying she's not wrong Karen. By the end of the day, I had Aunt
Karen swearing off family picnics entirely and Uncle Mike laughing his head off. On the third day
of messing with their family, I decided to up the ante. I texted the group, by the way, I might bring
someone to Thanksgiving. Hope you're cool with it. This was apparently scandalous news. Within
seconds, the chat blew up with questions. Who is he? Does mom know? You never tell us anything
anymore. Emily played coy, responding with you'll meet him soon enough. Winky face. Cousin Laura,
clearly the gossip queen, sent a private message asking if this boyfriend was the same guy from
that incident last year. I had no idea what she was talking about. But I responded, OMG Laura,
please don't bring that up again. She replied with I knew it. On the seventh day, I was a daily fixture
in the group chat. Every morning, I drop a bombshell and sit back to watch the fireworks. One day,
I casually mentioned that I thought cousin Sarah's new boyfriend was a little sketchy. Cue Sarah,
excuse me. What's that supposed to mean? Me, nothing, just vibes, you know? Uncle Mike,
ever the instigator, chimed in with, I mean, he does drive a van with no windows. Sarah went ballistic,
accusing the entire family of being judgmental and saying she wouldn't come to Thanksgiving at all.
I was on a roll. Few weeks in, I started noticing that some of the names in the chat were oddly
familiar. Laura, Sarah, Karen, those weren't exactly uncommon names, but something about them
tugged at the back of my mind. Then one night, it hit me like a ton of bricks. These are my cousins,
sat there in stunned silence, scrolling back through the chat history. The Thanksgiving plans?
That was my family's Thanksgiving. Aunt Karen's potato salad? I'd been avoiding it since I was 10.
The number I had inherited wasn't just Emily's old number. It was my cousin Emily's old number.
Once the realization set in, I was paralyzed within decision. Do I come clean and admit that I'd been
the puppet master behind weeks of family chaos? Or do I quietly bow out and hope no one ever
discovers the truth? Ultimately, I decided on a middle ground. I texted the group, hey guys,
this isn't Emily anymore. Sorry for the confusion. Confusion. The chat went silent for a solid five
minutes. Then Aunt Karen, ever dramatic, replied, wait, who is this? Left the group chat without
another word. Thanksgiving that year was tense. Aunt Karen avoided eye contact. Sarah glared at
everyone and Uncle Mike kept snickering into his beer. No one brought up the mysterious text,
but I could feel the suspicion in the air. As for me, I've never changed my phone number again.
Some lessons you only need to learn once.