AUTHOR'S NOTE: The date that this scene takes place is April 29, 2000. That particular weekend, I really was calling "friends of the university." To clarify: "friends of the university" is a term my school uses for people who donate to the school who aren't alumni or parents of students.

As my supervisor handed me a stack of call sheets one Saturday morning at my telemarketing job, I realized that it probably wasn't going to be a good day. I was given a stack of "friends of the university." This told me that these people probably didn't have much affiliation with the college. But then again, some of these "friends" had given money in the past, so they might give this time, it would just depend on how much I persuaded them. I groaned inwardly. It was going to be a long day.

The very first person on my list was a Mrs. Jackie Littrell in Lexington, Kentucky. The name didn't even strike me as being familiar. I dialed the number and waited for someone to answer. I sat there in my blue plaid pajama bottoms and yellow Backstreet Boys tank top doodling while the phone rang. After the second ring, a young man answered, "Hello, Littrell residence."

"Hi, may I speak with Mrs. Jackie Littrell?"

"I'm sorry, she's not here right now. This is her son, Brian, is there anything I can help you with?"

"You're kidding me, right? Brian Littrell? As in Brian Littrell of the Backstreet Boys?"

"That's right."

"You're kidding me. You're not B-Rok."

"I am."

"Prove it."

He then started singing; "I don't care who you are, where you're from, what you did. As long as you love me."

"So you can sing, big deal."

"What's your name?"

"Becca."

"And where are you calling from?"

"California State University, Chico."

"You're calling all the way from California and you don't believe that I'm a Backstreet Boy?" he asked with a slight laugh in his voice.

"Yeah."

"Do you know who the Backstreet Boys are?"

"Of course, who doesn't? And Brian happens to be my favorite member."

"Is there anything I can do to convince you that I am who I say I am?"

"Yeah, come out here and find me," I joked.

"Sure. Well, I'll let my mom know you called."

"Do you know when I'd be able to get a hold of her?"

"Maybe Wednesday evening about nine."

"Oh, but we don't call that late."

"No, it's okay. She's got choir practice until then. Go ahead and call her. It'll be okay."

"Alright," I sighed. "I'll call her back then. Thanks...Brian."

"Anytime...Becca."

I hung up the phone still not believing my ears. I sat there in amazement for a while. I guess I must have been sitting there staring into space a little too long, because my supervisor, Geoff, came over to talk to me. "Anything wrong Rebecca?" he asked.

"I don't know." I looked up at Geoff. He's six foot, six inches tall, compared to my four feet, eleven inches, so he pulled a chair over next to my booth. "I just got off the phone with this guy who claimed he was Brian Littrell of the Backstreet Boys."

"As in, 'Tell me why,'" Geoff sang.

"Exactly," I said flatly. Geoff was always teasing me about liking the Backstreet Boys, in fact everyone I worked with teased me.

"Did you believe him?"

"No."

"Well, we have called celebrities before."

"Like who?"

"Ever heard of Diamond Dave?"

"Yeah, local radio jock. Big deal."

"Well, don't let it get to you. Some people are like that."

"I know." I scribbled down a note in the comment section on the back of the pledge sheet and specifically marked that I wanted it back. I filed the sheet away in the shelves in my booth and started dialing the next number.

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