When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to
take it out on someone, don’t take it out on someone you know, take it
out on someone you don’t know.
I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I’d forgotten
to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered, saying
“Hello.”
I politely said, “This is Chris. Could I please speak with Robyn
Carter?”
Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear “Get the right f***ing
number!” and the phone was slammed down on me.. I couldn’t believe that
anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down Robyn’s correct number to
call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two
digits.
After hanging up with her, I decided to call the ‘wrong’ number
again.
When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled, “You’re an asshole!”
and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word ‘asshole’ next to
it, and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was
paying bills or had a really bad day, I’d call him up and yell,
“You’re an asshole!” It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic ‘asshole’
calling would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, “Hi,
this is John Smith from the telephone company. I’m calling to see if
you’re familiar with our Caller ID Program?”
He yelled “NO!” and slammed down the phone. I quickly called him back
and said, “That’s because you’re an asshole!” and hung up.
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’d been
waiting for that spot, but the idiot ignored me. I noticed a “For
Sale” sign in his back window, so I wrote down his number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had
his number on speed dial,) I thought that I’d better call the BMW
asshole, too.
I said, “Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?”
He said, “Yes, it is.” I asked, “Can you tell me where I can see it?”
He said, “Yes, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd., in Ontario. It’s a yellow
house, and the car’s parked right out in front.”
I asked, “What’s your name?”
He said, “My name is Don Hansen,”
I asked, “When’s a good time to catch you, Don?”
He said, “I’m home every evening after five.”
I said, “Listen, Don, can I tell you something?”
He said, “Yes?”
I said, “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.
Then I came up with an idea. I called asshole #1.
He said, “Hello.”
I said, “You’re an asshole!” (But I didn’t hang up.)
He asked, “Are you still there?”
I said, “Yeah,”
He screamed, “Stop calling me,”
I said, “Make me,”
He asked, “Who are you?”
I said, “My name is Don Hansen.”
He said, “Yeah? Where do you live?” I said, “Asshole, I live at 34
Oaktree Blvd., in Ontario, a yellow house, I have a black Beamer
parked in front.”
He said, “I’m coming over right now, Don. And you had better start
saying your prayers.”
I said, “Yeah, like I’m really scared, asshole,” and hung up.
Then I called Asshole #2.
He said, “Hello?”
I said, “Hello, asshole,”
He yelled, “If I ever find out who you are…”
I said, “You’ll what?”
He exclaimed, “I’ll kick your ***,”
I answered, “Well, asshole, here’s your chance. I’m coming over right
now.”
Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived
at 34 Oaktree Blvd., in Ontario, and that I was on my way over there
to kill my gay lover.
Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war going down in Oaktree
Blvd. in Ontario.
I quickly got into my car and headed over to Ontario. I got there
just in time to watch two assholes beating the crap out of each other
in front of six cop cars, an overhead news helicopter and surrounded
by a news crew.
NOW I feel much better.
Anger management really does work.
