Summary

A person's decision to change their phone number to avoid telemarketers inadvertently embroiled them in a dangerous situation with a member of the Sinaloa drug cartel who was seeking retribution from a previous owner of the number for unpaid services.

Abstract

The individual, seeking respite from incessant robocalls and telemarketing on Wednesdays, changed their phone number only to become entangled in a life-threatening mix-up. The new number had previously belonged to someone named David, who owed money to a cartel member named Juan for services rendered by a girl in the cartel's sex-trafficking division. Despite attempts to clarify the mistake, the protagonist received threatening messages, including graphic photos and demands for payment, which escalated to threats against the protagonist's family. The situation became more perilous as the protagonist's travels across the United States inadvertently led Juan on a wild goose chase, further infuriating him. Ultimately, the police were contacted, and the threats ceased, but not before highlighting the unintended and hazardous consequences of changing a phone number.

Opinions

The protagonist initially underestimated the severity of the situation, believing the threats to be a prank.
The protagonist expresses frustration with the telemarketers, whose harassment led to the phone number change and subsequent dangerous predicament.
There is a sense of irony in the protagonist's plight, as they went from being annoyed by telemarketers to being pursued by a cartel member.
The protagonist seems to empathize with the innocent family in Texas that was mistakenly targeted by Juan, showing concern for their safety.
The protagonist speculates that Juan's ambition and hot-headedness may have been manipulated by the girls in the cartel to facilitate their own agenda.
Despite the ordeal, the protagonist acknowledges an unintended positive outcome: the real David seemingly evaded the cartel's retribution.

How Changing My Phone Number almost got an Innocent Family Killed by a Mexican Drug Cartel

You never know who had your number before you.

Brutal Gang Member Gone Crazy Makes Threatening Gestures with a Gun. He Wears Gold Chain and Sleeveless Shirt. In the Background Abandoned Building with Boarded Up Windows. Stock photo from istockphoto.com.

I was tired of getting robocalls and telemarketers calling me all day long, especially on Wednesdays.

Don’t ask me why, but they chose Wednesday as the day to make my phone ring nonstop. On the plus side, they almost never called on Fridays.

In any case, the near constant harassment was getting on my nerves, so I changed my phone number thinking that would solve my little problem. Sure, the telemarketers stopped calling, but someone more sinister took their place:

A low-level, not too bright member of the Sinaloa drug cartel. Let’s call him Juan. He made a point of making sure I knew he was with the cartel.

It seemed that the phone number I had acquired to rid myself of the unwanted pesky intrusion into my life by aggressive telemarketers had once belonged to someone named David. David apparently had sexual relations with one of the girls under Juan’s supervision in the cartel’s sex-trafficking division and somehow managed to get away without paying.

This did not make Juan a happy camper, and he had something to prove or someone he wanted to impress higher up in his chain of command. He was determined to track down this David and make him pay. Not necessarily with money, but possibly with his life.

Soon after I got my new phone number, I started receiving text messages with photos of severed heads captioned, “This will happen to you!” Supposedly the decapitations were the handiwork of the Sinaloa cartel.

Juan sent me text messages threatening to kill me, David, and my family, if I did not “make amends” and send him $5,000 to cover the cost of David’s tryst.

At first, I blew it off thinking that it must be a prank, but the texts persisted.

I tried texting Juan back, telling him that he had the wrong guy, that my name wasn’t David.

That just pissed him off even more.

On top of the texts from Juan, I also received some texts from another phone number. This person claimed to be the girl that was “disrespected.”

She said that Juan was pissed off at me, David, and that he was serious. She texted that he was spending all his time trying to figure out how to find me. She said that he had all of his girls keeping an eye out for me.

He wanted to impress the higher ups at the cartel. He wanted them to notice that he didn’t let anyone get away with screwing him over. I guess he was looking for a promotion.

It just so happens that at the time Juan was trying to hunt down this David guy though my phone, I was traveling all around the United States.

I was driving between 8–14 hours a day every day for about a week, touring the United States. If Juan was tracking the location of my cell phone, I imagine that he was getting more pissed off day by day when he’d find that I was nearly a thousand miles away from where he last tracked my location.

If he was hot on my tail, every day for a week he would end up no closer than he was the day I got my new phone number. He must have felt as though I was leading him on a wild goose chase across the country with my next destination always unknown, but hundreds of miles away, in any direction, from where I started.

This whole scenario started in Beaumont, Texas.

A place where, ironically, I’ve never been. I started getting the texts while in Galveston, Texas. It continued to Dallas, then to Shreveport, Louisiana, through Arkansas, to Missouri, to Tennessee, to the east coast, then back to Illinois before Juan stepped up his game and decided texting threatening messages wasn’t getting the job done, he was going to call me.

I was spending Thanksgiving with a friend and former workmate in Chicago when I received a barrage of text messages and the ominous phone call. Juan sounded much more like a stereotypical gangster than I expected.

The texts he sent to me on Thanksgiving Day made threats towards a family, supposedly my family, in Beaumont, Texas.

Juan sent me the names of the people who’s lives he was threatening and the address they supposedly live at in Beaumont.

I texted back again that he had the wrong number and that I didn’t know this family. When he called, I responded, “Like I said, you have the wrong person.” I could hear him repeat back, “wrong person?!” before I hung up and called the police.

Whatever was happening had nothing to do with me, but I didn’t want to turn on the news to see a story of a family in Beaumont, Texas being massacred in their home by members of the Sinaloa drug cartel.

All because I was tired of being harassed by telemarketers.

The Chicago police took down all the information including the address of the family being threatened in Beaumont and the phone number of the guy who had been texting and now calling me. They promised to make contact with the local police in Beaumont.

I thought it was odd that Juan never masked his number when he texted or called. Whether serious or a prankster, I think that he would still want his number to be unknown to the person whose head he was threatening to cut off.

After contacting the police, I never heard from Juan again.

Perhaps he finally realized that he really did have the wrong person as all that he had to go on was a phone number. Perhaps he was being set up by the girls who knew ambitious, but hot-headed Juan would do something stupid helping to facilitate their escape when he got caught.

I still receive other text messages meant for David.

His Netflix account has expired, and fraudulent activity was suspected on his Mobil gas card a couple of weeks ago.

Maybe the cartel caught wind of what Juan was up to, easily verified that he didn’t have his facts straight, and put a stop to his foolish behavior. I’ll never know.

All I know is that he stopped calling, stopped threatening to chop of my head, and stopped threatening to kill some strangers in Texas if I didn’t send him $5,000.

Unfortunately, the telemarketers have successfully managed to track me down. Their harassment started up right where they left off.

So, all of this was for nothing.

I almost got myself and some innocent family in Texas killed by changing my phone number just trying to avoid telemarketers.

Well, it wasn’t all for nothing. I guess some guy named David managed to screw a prostitute in the employment of a drug cartel without paying for it and got away with it. That’s a noteworthy accomplishment.

I wonder what he would think of the folly that ensued when he ditched his old phone number.