It was Monday night. My phone rang. I picked it up.
Me: ”Hello?”
Phone: [long pause] ”That’s a weird way to answer the phone.”
Me: ”Huh? That’s how I always answer the phone. Who is this?”
Phone: ”Uhhh… who is this?”
Me: ”I asked you first.”
Phone: ”Ummm… I’m trying to get information.”
Me: ”About what?”
Phone: ”Who is this?”
Me: ”Your momma.”
Phone: ”What?!”
Me: ”Chicken butt.”
Phone: ”Are you going to help me or what?”
Me: ”No.”
Phone: ”Why not?”
Me: ”I don’t like you anymore.”
Phone: ”What the hell is wrong with you people?”
Me: [screaming] ”DON’T YOU TALK ABOUT MY PEOPLE LIKE THAT!”
Phone: [long silence] ”Who is this?”
Me: ”Your momma. I already told you this. Write it down, dammit.”
Phone: ”I’m not writing that down!”
Me: ”You’d better right it down. I’m gonna send Guido and Franky to your room if you don’t.”
Phone: ”No you’re not.”
Me: [puts phone aside and yells] ”You boys go rough this person up right now.
You have my permission to use the metal pipe.”
Phone: ”I demand to know who you are.”
Me: ”You can ask Guido and Franky about me when they get there.”
Phone: [click]
Five minutes pass. The phone rings again.
Me: ”Information.”
Phone: ”Hi. Uh, I need the number for Chris’ Pizza.”
Me: ”What for?”
Phone: ”Excuse me?”
Me: ”What for?”
Phone: ”What do you mean what for? Is… is this the same guy that I talked to five minutes ago?”
Me: ”No. I’m a different guy.”
Phone: ”Are you sure?”
Me: ”Let me check.” [puts phone on the floor, focuses on TV which is playing Entertainment Tonight briefly, picks up phone again]
”Yes, I’m sure.”
Phone: [long pause] ”Who… err… so do you have the number or what?”
Me: ”What number?”
Phone: ”For Chris’ Pizza.”
Me: ”Yes.”
Phone: ”Can I have it?”
Me: ”Yes.”
Phone: [pause] ”When?”
Me: ”Tomorrow?”
Phone: ”Are you crazy or something?”
Me: ”We are information. We are not crazy. For crazy, please contact the operator or try your call again.”
Phone: ”Can I have the number now?”
Me: ”Say please.”
Phone: ”Please?”
Me: ”No.”
Phone: ”Ugh! Why not?”
Me: ”If you’d like the number, please come down to the front desk with a cashier’s check for twenty five cents.”
Phone: ”Why can’t I pay in cash?”
Me: ”We don’t accept cash.”
Phone: ”Can I talk to your supervisor?”
Me: ”Yes.” [puts down phone, refocuses on Entertainment Tonight, picks up phone again] ”Can I help you?”
Phone: [pause] ”Hey, this is the same guy I just talked to”
Me: ”No it isn’t.”
Phone: ”Yes it is! Stop lying.”
Me: ”Can we help you?”
Phone: ”Yeah, I’ve been trying to get the number for Chris’ Pizza for the last five minutes and your person answering the phone won’t give it to me.”
Me: ”We apologize for the inconvenience. Please hold for the number.”
Phone: ”Well, thank you very much.”
Me: [pause as I thumb through the newspaper] ”The number is… 6, 1, 0, 9, 7, 6, 3, 8, 2, 5.”
Phone: ”Okay. Got it. Thank you so much!”
Me: ”Thank you for calling. A charge of $25 dollars will appear on your bill when you check out.”
Phone: ”Huh? For what?”
Me: ”Thank you for calling. Goodbye.” [hangs up phone]
Fifteen seconds pass and the phone rings again. I pick it up.
Me: ”What!?”
Phone: ”Is this the guy who just charged us twenty five dollars?”
Me: ”No.”
Phone: ”Yes it is! Man, you guys are a bunch of liars.”
Me: ”That’s it. Stop calling me. Next time I call the police.”
Phone: ”The police!?”
Me: ”Yes!’
I hung up. Moral of the story? Never stay in room 411.
