Open letter to the Spanish-speaking person who keeps calling my cell phone every so often and leaving a voicemail

First, be advised that I do not answer the phone from numbers I don't recognize, so I'm never going to pick up. However, even if I were to, that likely would bring us to the larger issue: I took French in high school, and my Spanish extends only as far as ordering food or beer, counting to ten, and asking where the library is; I suspect that would be insufficient. Perhaps you'd recognize that I was not speaking the same language and would glean that I am not the party whom you are trying to reach, but based on a prior similar incident some years ago, I suspect you'd merely keep calling back for a while until it became clear you had the wrong number. And for that same reason that's why I won't be responding to your voicemail.

I merely hope that you will eventually you will realize that your messages never get a response and verify with your intended party as to why that is, discover your incorrect number, and make the appropriate adjustments when you dial.

Why would someone living in this area take French instead of Spanish? Eh, I had some friends taking that class, as well as many of the cute girls. I wish I could claim something grander, but it was pretty much that. Hey, I was 15—what do you expect?
If it makes the situation now seem any better, allow me to assure you that despite three years of classes in the language, over the intervening 26 years I have forgotten most of it, and were I in France (or even Quebec) I wouldn't be able to explain to someone there that they had the wrong number in their native tongue, and I imagine even had I taken Spanish lo those many decades ago today I'd probably be in the same situation.

And in a way, that would only seem worse, as it would make those classes in high school seem a colossal waste.

Gracias.

p.s. I know where the library is.