Sunday, 14 April 2013

still thinking about a prank caller two days later

So if you can't tell by the title of this post, I received a prank call at work the other day. I don't know why I take things like prank calls to heart. It wasn't even directed at me, it was directed at the business, you know? Someone saw "tattoo shop" in the phonebook* the Google and had the most hilarious idea ever. This is how I imagine the conversation went before the call took place:

"Omg let's do a super fake sounding accent, call the tattoo place and ask them something."

"Okay but what should we ask?"

"Hm. What about that bit about the refrigerator running? That's pretty funny."

"No no no! It's gotta be something fresh, something they've never heard before."

"Alright, whaaaat abooouuuut something to do with...hmmm...funny...funny...what is funny...? EUREKA! I'VE GOT IT! DICKS! WE SHOULD ASK THEM ABOUT DICKS!"

"Perfect! There is absolutely nothing on this planet that is funnier than dicks."

"Okay so shop...dicks....AHA!" (snaps fingers dramatically)

"You got something?"

"Yes...but...I'm not sure they'll understand the subtlety..."

"Goddamn it Jenkins, what is it?"

"What if we ask them...what! It's too risky!"

"Tell me! Please! My life depends on this moment."

"Alright, are you ready for this? Okay. What if we ask them ... if they do penis tattoos?"

"Yes. That's it! That will blow their minds! Let's do it."

And so they called the shop ... not blocking their name or phone number or anything and I, the receptionist, answered. I always check the call display while the phone is ringing because if someone's from out of town I like to know, it makes it easier booking their appointments. This was a local cell phone number.

"Good afternoon, tattoo shop."

(high pitched voice and a horribly done Texas-ish accent) "Howdy! How y'all doing today?" (muffled laughter in the background)

"I'm...fine, and you?"

"Oh good, good, just whackin' off."

"Hm." (I then sat there silent for a bit because I was 99 percent sure it was a prank.) "So. How can I help you then?"

"Yes. I was wondrin' if y'all do penis tattoos."

And I hung up. Just to be clear I don't hang up on everybody who wants a penis tattoo, but I do hang up on people who I think are fucking with me.

I looked back on the call display and wrote down the name and number. I waited a minute and called them back. I had no plan, I just wanted them to know that I know who they are.

"Hello?" Answered a normal voice. 

"Ya hi, do you guys do penis tattoos?" I said. 

They hung up on me this time. 

I told the tattooers who had been outside smoking what just happened and they all had a laugh and said for me to call their bluff and say yes, come down to the shop and we'll do it. I told them the name that appeared on the phone and one of the guys said "Oh I wonder if that was my friend ___". 

And that's what kind of pissed me off about the entire thing. If someone is calling to bother their friend ... why are they harassing me, the receptionist? I don't think it actually was their friend because nobody ever called back or took ownership of their ingenious hilarious joke but if it was...seriously fuck off.

Anyway, two days later I'm still cringing about this. I don't know why being the butt of a joke is so awful but it is! Even if it wasn't exactly meant for me personally, I still feel a bit embarrassed. So...of course I wrote about it on the internet.

*Phone book? Really, me?