For all of you who occasionally have a bad day and need to take it out on someone... don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on a stranger.
I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I had forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it.
A man answered saying, "Hello?"
I politely said, "This is Fred Hanifin, could I please speak with Robin Carter?" Suddenly the phone slammed down on me.
I couldn't believe someone could be so rude. I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her, (I had transposed the last two digits of her phone number).
After hanging up with Robin, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again.
When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled,"You're an Asshole!" and hung up the phone. I wrote his number down in my Daytimer with the word 'asshole' next to it. Every couple of weeks when I was paying bills or had just had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell "You're an asshole!" the hang up the phone. It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic 'asshole' calling would have to stop. So one day I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from the telephone company. I'm just calling to see if you are familiar with our Caller ID program.
The 'asshole' yelled "No!" and slammed the phone down.
I quickly called him back and said "That's because you're an Asshole!" and hung up.
Then 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 had been waiting for that spot. The idiot ignored me.
I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his window so I wrote down the number.
A couple of days later right after calling the first 'asshole' (by now I had his number on my speed dial), I thought I had better call the 'BMW asshole' too.
I dialed and someone said "Hello?"
I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW 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 is parked right out front."
"What's your name?" I asked.
"My name is Don Hansen," he said.
"When is a good time to catch you, Don?"
"I'm home every evening after five."
"Listen Don, can I tell you something?"
"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. But after several months of calling them, it wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be. So I came up with a new idea: I called Asshole #1.
"You're an Asshole" is said but didn't hang up.
"Are you still there?" he asked
"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 1802 West 34th Street...A yellow house with a black Beemer parked out front."
He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers 'cause I'm going to stomp your ass."
I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, asshole," and hung up the phone.
I then called asshole #2.
"Hello?" he said.
"Hello Asshole," I said.
He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are,I'll..."
"You'll what, Asshole?" 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 and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 1802 West 34th Street and I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.
Then I called channel 13 News about a gang war going down in the 1800 block of West 34th Street.
I quickly got into my car and headed over to West 34th Street.
There I saw two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of 6 squad cars, a police helicopter, and a news crew.
Now, I feel much better.