Ok, so this isn't about the NSA or wiretapping, but about how hilarious it would be IF the NSA tapped a phone call I got last night.
This is a bit adult, so if any of you are younger readers, go here for now, and check back when I'm done telling the story.
So, I walk into my apartment last night, about 10pm, and get a call on my celphone. I don't have a land-line in the apartment, so my celphone is the only phone I have. The caller ID says, "private call". Normally I don't answer those: if you want to talk to me, unleash your caller ID and I'll answer, otherwise, leave a message. BUT it was late, and if someone from work calls on the county phone line it shows "private call", or, I thought, possibly one of my kids was out someplace and needed to call dad, so I went ahead and answered it.
"Hello?"
Mutter mutter mumble mutter mutter.....
It sounded like a bad connection so I extended the antenna and tried again... "Hello?"
Mutter mumble gonna come and mutter mutter mumble your skinny little mutter mumble...
Ha!!! Did I just hear what I thought I heard? Skinny? Me??
"Hello? I can't hear you.... speak up..."
I'm gonna come and f*** you up, I'm gonna (yadda yadda, fill in all the expletives regarding homosexual rape you want, quite a little rant, really)....
I laughed. Honestly, I laughed. I have over 15 years experience talking to people on the phone, day in and day out, reading their moods and understanding how they think. This was probably a white guy, early 20s, not real bright, nervous as heck, trying really hard to disguise his voice and sound scary by talking as deep as he could.
So, bad, bad me, I thought, What an ass. I'm gonna play with him.
"You like boys, do you?" I asked in a high voice.
I'm gonna hurt you so bad, (put his penis places and all sorts of things, yadda yadda yadda), you're gonna love it....
"Oooh I'd like that... bring it on over, big fella.... maybe I can do you too....I bet you'd like that..." Ok, I know that was bad, but jeez!
Now, you have to understand, I'm not all THAT fast of a thinker on my feet. To be honest, I'm surprised I didn't just sputter at the first words out of this guys mouth and hang up the phone. But, when I DO try to think on my feet, for whatever reason, I affect a southern accent. I think its because it helps me think like someone who ISN'T me. Anyway.....
You sound like a southern boy.....
"You like southern boys, do ya? I bet you do.... I bet you like all kinds of boys, don't you... just love the boys...."
Silence a minute. This wasn't going at all the way the guy had figured it would. I know he was hoping to scare someone. He never once used my name, or anything about where I live, what I do, what I look like, anything.... it was clearly a random prank, and it wasn't going his way.
I'm gonna do you with some Louisiana hotsauce, little southern boy....
WTF? Louisiana hotsauce???
Mind you, I've left a lot of the conversation out, but I'm sure you can fill it in with your own imagination. But at this point, I just had to break.
"Your momma didn't breast feed you, did she, sonny?"
I'm gonna rip your blah blah blah....!
I interrupted him, and he actually stopped yelling. "Mmmm hmmm, whatever sonny... You are a sick, sad little man, and I feel sorry for you. I gotta go now... buh bye."
So I hung up. Naturally he called back about 30 seconds later, at which I simply answered the phone and hung up without saying a word. That way, he gets no fun by talking to me and trying to jack me up, OR leaving a message on voicemail. He didn't call back a third time.
At first I was amused and slightly agitated at the phone call. SOB. But then I got mad: what if that were one of my daughters that answered the phone. The sick SOB would have started going off on one of them, and damn it, that's just unacceptable.
Perverts on that level need to have their heads examined.... with a spoon.
Now, imagine the NSA putting that call into my file!
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