Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Oh Telephone Line, Give Me Some Time

I'm playing a wicked game* that occasionally pops up at work. Voicemail War transpires when you call my work phone and you hang up on my voicemail. Then you call again and Caller ID identifies you (and keep in mind often I don't answer the phone, even when I actually can answer it and I'm not in the middle of talking to someone at the door or my hand isn't buried in a box of Cheez-Its. As a general rule, I kick it to VM. I did my time, thankee), and you hang up again. And you call again, maybe even from your cell phone this time, trying to trick me with a different number but leaving me the same tinged-with-anger "cl-clumpk." And thus and so allllll the August afternoon long.

Because only freaks phone a reputable place of professional business repeatedly every ten to twenty minutes, listen to the entire outgoing message, and then hang up without leaving a message on the voicemail.

And why would I want to talk to a freak, freaks?


*not in the surfer-slang sense but rather in Chris Isaak nomenclature

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