Having a bad day? Now get this.
I was sitting at my desk, when I remembered a phone call I had to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered nicely saying, “Hello?” I politely said, “This is Patrick Hannifin and could I please speak to Robin Carter?” Suddenly the phone was slammed down on me! I couldn’t believe that anyone could be that rude. I tracked down Robin’s correct number and called her. She had transposed the last two digits.
After I hung up with Robin, I spotted the wrong number still lying there on my desk. I decided to call it again. When the same person once more answered, I yelled, “You’re a jerk!” and hung up. Next to his phone number I wrote the word, “Jerk” and put it in my desk drawer.
Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills, or having a really bad day, I’d call him up. He’d answer and I’d yell, “You’re a jerk!” It would always cheer me up.
Later in the year the phone company introduced caller ID. This was a real disappointment for me-I would have to stop calling the jerk.
Then one day I had an idea. I dialed his number, then heard his voice.
I made up a name. “Hi. This is a repairman with the telephone company and I’m just calling to see if you’re familiar with our caller ID program.”
He went, “No!” and slammed the phone down.
I quickly called him back and said, “That’s because you’re a jerk!”
And the reason I took the time to tell you this story is to show you how, if there’s ever anything really bothering you, you can do something about it. Just dial 823-4863.
The old lady at the mall really took her time pulling out of the parking space. I didn’t think she was ever going to leave. Finally her car began to move and she started to very slowly back out of the stall. I thought, “She’s finally leaving.” All of a sudden this black Camaro comes flying up the parking aisle in the wrong direction and pulls into her space. I started honking my horn and yelling, “You can’t just do that, Buddy! I was here first!!” The guy climbed out of his Camaro completely ignoring me. He walked toward the mall as if he didn’t even hear me. I thought to myself, “This guy’s a jerk. There sure are a lot of jerks in this world.” Then I noticed he had a ‘For Sale’ sign in the
back window of his car. I wrote down the number. Then I hunted for another place to park.
A couple of days later, I’m at home sitting at my desk. I had just gotten off the phone after calling 823-4863 and yelling, “You’re a jerk!” (It’s really easy to call him now, since I have his number on speed dial.) I noticed the phone number of the guy with the black Camaro lying on my desk and thought I’d better call this guy, too.
After a couple of rings someone answered the phone and said, “Hello.”
I said, “Is this the man with the black Camaro for sale?”
“Yes it is.”
“Can you tell me where I can see it?”
“Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th Street. It’s a yellow house and the car’s parked right out front.”
I said, “What’s your name?”
“My name is Don Hansen.”
“When’s a good time to catch you, Don?”
“I’m home in the evenings.”
“Listen Don, can I tell you something?”
“Don, you’re a jerk!” And I slammed the phone down.
After I hung up, I added Don Hansen’s number to my speed dialer.
For a while things seemed to be going better for me. Now when I had a problem I had two jerks to call. Then after several months of calling the jerks and hanging up on them, the whole thing started to seem like an obligation. It just wasn’t as enjoyable as it used to be. I gave the problem some serious thought and came up with a solution.
First, I had my phone dial Jerk #1.
A man answered nicely, saying, “Hello.”
I yelled, “You’re a jerk!” but I didn’t hang up.
The jerk said, “Are you still there?”
I answered, “Yeah…”
He said, “Stop calling me.”
I said, “No.”
He said, “What’s your name, pal?”
I said, “Don Hansen.”
“Where do you live?”
“1802 West 34th Street. It’s a yellow house and my black Camaro’s parked out front.”
“I’m coming over right now, Don. You’d better start saying your prayers.”
“Yeah, like I’m really scared, Jerk!” and I hung up.
Then I called Jerk #2.
He answered, “Hello.”
I said, “Hello, Jerk!”
He said, “If I ever find out who you are, . . .”
“I’ll kick your ass.”
I said, “Well, here’s your chance. I’m coming over right now, Jerk!”
And I hung up.
Then I picked up the phone and called the police. I told them I was at 1802 West 34th Street and that I was going to kill my gay lover as soon as he got home. Another quick call to Channel 13 about the gang war going on down on West 34th Street. After that I climbed into my car and headed over to 34th Street to watch the whole thing.
Glorious! If you want to watch two jerks kicking the crap out of each other in front of 6 squad cars and a police helicopter, I taped it off the evening news.