Occasionally, on an ill-fated Friday, we ask the wrong person for sperm.
I think the lesson here is that when your job is to ask a young father to donate sperm to the mother of his child, so that she can have another baby, you shouldn't just grab the file on the top of your stack and dial the number. Because you might end up asking a 50-year old, divorced, happily re-married man if his ex-wife (whom he divorced 10 years ago) can please have some of his sperm in a cup. And when he sounds confused and asks what, exactly, you're talking about, you might repeat the entire pitch one more time before realizing that something has gone horribly, terribly wrong.
It could happen. I'm just saying.
