I'm sorry, you've reached the wrong number. It also was the wrong number when you called two minutes ago. And two minutes before that. And 45 seconds before that. And six minutes before that.
In fact, I hate to tell you this, dear caller, but dialing the wrong number multiple times does not magically make it become the right number. Neither does staggering the length of time between calls, nor alternating between hanging up as soon as I answer and asking if you can speak to "Joe."
No, you can't speak to "Joe."
You can't speak to him now and you can't speak to him tomorrow, and you can't speak to him in two minutes, either. At no time can you dial this number and reach "Joe," because "Joe" is not here. I've had this phone number for eleven and a half years, and "Joe" has never once been here. You can speak to "Vanessa," and if you have a crystal ball and a little patience I might be able to put you in touch with "Pete," but you cannot, no way, no how, under any circumstances, speak to "Joe."
On second thought, I suppose if you really want me to, I can lower my voice an octave and pretend to be him, but I don't think you'll like what I have to say on his behalf.