Smell me Now or Call me Later

Lately our house phone has been ringing out of control. House phone…what do you call it? Is it a Lan-line, Landline… or lamb-line? I need to look that one up. Our family is getting abused by so many callers all day long, that my normal method of ignoring calls and letting it go to voice mail is not adequate.

They call first thing in the morning, at every meal, at “nap” time (even though there’s no napping in our house, so bugger off), and my favorite – right when you are putting the kids to sleep at night.

These blood suckers are trying to get innocent people to pick up the phone quickly so you don’t wake your kids? I know it’s intentional. Jerkwads!

This is disturbing since I frequently add my numbers to the online “no-call list.” You know the one which is supposed to keep me free from these money-begging harassers and crooks. I mean gentlemen callers.

I want to know who threw me under the bus and put me on these lists. Is it every time you give money to an organization, they announce to everyone else, “Hey, this family will give you some dough! Try calling them 8 times a day and they will surely give in to your subtle tactics.”

I’m sure a handful of these calls are legitimate groups in need of donations, but my hubby and I search out the companies we want to sponsor every year. I would like to announce publicly there is no need to pimp yourself on my phone because if I wanted to give you my money, we would have. I promise we are generous to the organizations we treasure and hold dear to our hearts. If you didn’t get our money over the last 10 years, it’s a good indication to take our name out of your database.

So the rest of you…especially YOU the “Fraternal Order of Police” and the “State Troopers” – who by the threatening way that they speak to me on the phone – I really doubt you are who you say you are; leave me alone!

And if I’m wrong about this and it is you, you need to screen your calling staff because they need to be thrown in the pokey for the abusive way they treat folks on the horn. Who wants to give money to someone who aggressively guilts you and makes you feel the police will come after you if you don’t sponsor them. If you are doing this, shame on you all. It is a pitiful use of power.

On Thanksgiving this year, immediately following our meal, the phone rang. It was a 1-800-number. The sight of that on my caller ID sucked the thankfulness out of me in a flash, and I darted for that phone mumbling nothing pretty under my breath.

I snatched up the phone and curtly inquired, “WHO IS THIS?”

The man on the phone had a thick accent which I couldn’t identify. Probably because my anger was masking logical thinking.

“Stenchy?” he asked.

“Excuse me?” I harshly replied.

He repeated his question, “Stenchy?”

My anger scaled back down a bit. Obviously, this man had made an error and misdialed. How easy I could forgive someone when they made a mistake.

“You must have the wrong the number. I’m sorry,” and I hung up with the poor fellow who fails to remember numbers in order. I would hate to have that disability.

Afterward, I boasted to my large dinner party, the man was looking for a person named “Stenchy.” This of course brought great laughter; and just when we were to start playing with the name Stenchy, and how awkward it would be to be given that name – the phone rang again.

No. It couldn’t be. But caller ID showed the previous number. It was Stenchy’s pal.

This time I answered, “Hello?”

“Stacey?” (dead silence)

I couldn’t speak. Who was this person? Why would he call on Thanksgiving and how did he get my number? It had to be some crackpot, social deviant, or a scam artist.

“Who are you and what do you want?” I stammered into the receiver.

With his near unintelligible accent, he said, “My name is Joseph.”

Right…Joseph. I’m sure that is your birth name.

He then said something to me about how he hoped I was enjoying my “Holiday of Thanks” and he was with the “blah de dah dah.” At this point, my mind lost focus on everything he was saying, so I asked him to repeat it.

“My name is Joseph and I am with ‘wah, wah, wah, wah, wah…’”

Now I had attracted 11 people from the dining room, trying to decipher my call as if they could figure it out better than I could. Actually, the odds were 50/50.

So what do you do when you panic thinking someone is trying to take advantage of you? If you think I hung up on the dude, you would be sorely mistaken. Instead I hurled the phone at my hubby as if it were a hot…sweet potato.

Then the questions started from the family, so hubby couldn’t hear a thing on the phone either. He ended the call the way I should have, but as I think back on the scenario, all I can see is me throwing the phone as if it had an explosive device in it.

Too bad for the hubby though. If a bomb is about to detonate in my hands; it appears in a fight or flight situation, I’m aiming at my hubs.

I guess it is good to know that enlisting in the military would be a dangerous choice for me and anyone in my tossing vicinity. I never would have guessed I would have acted in that manner.

So what’s the moral of this story?

You can never trust a Stenchy after Thanksgiving dinner and if she throws something at you…duck!

If you enjoyed this, please look me up on NURSE MOMMY LAUGHS FACEBOOK page for some turkey turnovers, hot potatoes and a pumpkin pie martini.