Dealing with Arseholes
 

This was sent to me by email. I don't know who wrote it.

This is for all of you who occasionally have a really bad day when you just need to take it out on someone. Don't take that bad day out on someone you know. Take it out on someone you DON'T know!

Now get this. I was sitting at my desk, when I remembered a phone call I had to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered nicely saying, "Hello?" I politely said, "This is Patrick Hanifin. May I please speak to Robin Carter?"

Suddenly the phone was slammed down on me! I couldn't believe that anyone could be that rude. I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her. She had transposed the last two digits incorrectly.

After I hung up with Robin, I spotted the wrong number still lying there on my desk. I decided to call it again. When the same person once more answered, I yelled "You're an arsehole!" and hung up. Next to his phone number I wrote the word "arsehole," 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. He'd answer, and then I'd yell, "You're an arsehole!" It would always cheer me up.

Later in the year the phone company introduced caller ID. This was a real disappointment for me. I would have to stop calling the arsehole.

Then one day I had an idea. I dialed his number, then heard his voice, "Hello." I made up a name. "Hi. This is the sales office of the telephone company and I'm just calling to see if you're familiar with our caller ID program?" He went, "No!" and slammed the phone down. I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an arsehole!"

The reason I took the time to tell you this story, is to show you how if there's ever anything really bothering you, you can do something about it. Just dial 823-4863.

Then, one day this old lady at the mall really took her time pulling out of the parking space. I didn't think she was ever going to leave. Finally, her car began to move and she started to very slowly back out of the slot. I backed up a little more to give her plenty of room to pull out.

Great, I thought, she's finally leaving.

All of a sudden this black Camaro came flying up the parking aisle in the wrong direction and pulled into her space. I started honking my horn and yelling, "You can't just do that, buddy. I was here first!" The guy climbed out of his Camaro completely ignoring me. He walked toward the mall as if he didn't even hear me. I thought to myself, This guy's an arsehole. There sure are a lot of arseholes in this world. I noticed he had a "For Sale" sign in the back window of his car. I wrote down the number. Then I hunted for another place to park.

A couple of days later, I'm at home sitting at my desk. I had just gotten off the phone after calling 823-4863 and yelling, "You're an arsehole!" (It's really easy to call him now since I have his number on speed dial.) I noticed the phone number of the guy with the black Camaro lying on my desk and thought I'd better call this guy, too.

After a couple rings someone answered the phone and said, "Hello."

I said, "Is this the man with the black Camaro 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's parked right out front."

I said, "What's your name?"

"My name is Don Hansen."

"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"

"I'm home in the evenings."

"Listen Don, can I tell you something?"

"Yes."

"Don, you're an arsehole!" And I slammed the phone down.

After I hung up I added Don Hansen's number to my speed dial. For a while things seemed to be going better for me. Now when I had a problem I had two arseholes to call. Then after several months of calling the arseholes and hanging up on them, it just wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be. I gave the problem some serious thought and came up with a solution.

First, I had my phone dial Arsehole #1. A man answered nicely saying, "Hello." I yelled "You're an arsehole!", but I didn't hang up.

The arsehole said, "Are you still there?"

I said, "Yeah."

He said, "Stop calling me."

I said, "No."

He said, "What's your name, pal?"

I said, "Don Hansen."

He asked, "Where do you live?"

"1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house and my black Camaro's parked out front."

"I'm coming over right now, Don. You'd better start saying your prayers."

"Yeah, like I'm really scared, arsehole!" and I hung up.

Then I called Arsehole #2.

He answered, "Hello."

I said, "Hello, arsehole!"

He said, "If I ever find out who you are..."

"You'll what?"

"I'll kick your butt."

"Well, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now, arsehole!"

And I hung up.

Then I picked up the phone and called the police. I told them I was at 1802 West 34th Street and that I was going to kill my gay lover as soon as he got home. Another quick call to Channel 13 about the gang war going on down West 34th Street.

After that I climbed into my car and headed over to 34th Street to watch the whole thing. Glorious! If you want to watch two arseholes kicking the crap out of each other in front of six squad cars and a police helicopter...

I taped it all on the evening news.