A little long but funny!
When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it out on someone, don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't know.
I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number and dialled it. A man answered, saying
"Hello." I politely said, "This is Chris. Could I please speak with Robyn Carter?"
Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear "Get the right f**in number!" and the phone was slammed down on me.
I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down Robyn's correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits. After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again.
When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled "You're an asshole!" and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word 'asshole' next to it, and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell, "You're an asshole! " It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic "asshole calling" would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from Verizon. I'm calling to see if you're familiar with our Caller ID Program?"
He yelled "NO! " and slammed down the phone. I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an asshole! "
One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot. Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I'd been waiting for that spot, but the idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his back window which included his phone number, so I wrote down the number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had his number on speed dial) I thought that I'd better call the BMW asshole too. I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?”
" Yes, it is", he said.
"Can you tell me where I can see it? " I asked.
"Yes, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, in Vaucluse. It's a yellow house, and the car's parked right out in front. "
"What's your name? " I asked.
"My name is Don Hansen, " he said.
"When's a good time to catch you, Don? " "I'm home every evening after five."
"Listen, Don, can I tell you something? "
"Yes? "
"Don, you're an asshole! " Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.
Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call. Then I came up with an idea. I called Asshole #1.
"Hello. "
"You're an asshole! "
(But I didn't hang up. ) "Are you still there? " he asked.
"Yeah, " I said. "Stop calling me, " he screamed.
"Make me, " I said.
"Who are you? " he asked.
"My name is Don Hansen. "
"Yeah? Where do you live? "
"Asshole, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse, a yellow house, with my black Beamer parked in front.
"He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers."
I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, asshole," and hung up.
Then I called Asshole #2. "Hello? " he said.
"Hello, asshole, " I said.
He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are. . . "
"You'll what? " I said.
"I'll kick your ass, " he exclaimed.
I answered, "Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now. "
Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.
Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war going down in Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse.
I quickly got into my car and headed over to Mowbray.
I got there just in time to watch two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead police helicopter and a news crew.
NOW I feel much better. Anger management really works. . .
