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.
It all started one day when I was sitting at my desk and remembered
a phone call I had forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed
it.
A man answered, saying, "Hello." I politely said, "This is Chris.
May I please speak with Robin Carter?" Suddenly, the phone was
slammed down on me.
I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude.
I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her. I had
transposed the last two digits of her phone number.
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
Idiot!" and hung up.
I wrote his number down with the word 'Idiot' 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 Idiot!" It always cheered
me up.
When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic 'Idiot'
calling would have to stop.
So, I called his number and said, Hi, this is John Smith from the
Telephone Company. I'm just calling to see if you're interested in
the Caller ID program?"
He yelled, "NO!" and slammed the phone down.
I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an
Idiot!"
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 had been waiting for the spot. The
idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his car window, so
I wrote down his number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first Idiot, ( I
had his number on speed dial ), I thought I had better call the BMW
Idiot, too.
I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW 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 in front."
"What's your name?" I asked.
"My name is Don Hansen," he said.
"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"
"I'm home every evening after five."
"Listen, Don, can I tell you something?"
"Yes?"
"Don, you're an Idiot." Then I hung up, and added his number to my
speed dial, too.
Now, when I had a problem, I had two Idiots to call. But after
several months of calling them, it wasn't as enjoyable as it used
to be So, I came up with an idea.
I called Idiot #1.
"Hello."
"You're an Idiot!" (But I didn't hang up.)
"Are you still there?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Stop calling me," he screamed.
"Make me," I said.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"My name is Don Hansen."
"Yeah? Where do you live?"
"Idiot, I live at 1802 West 34th Street, a yellow house, with my
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, Idiot."
Then I called Idiot #2.
"Hello?" he said.
"Hello, Idiot," I said.
He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are!"
"You'll what?" I said.
"I'll kick your @$$," he exclaimed.
I answered, "Well, Idiot, here's your chance. I'm coming over right
now."
Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I
lived at 1802 West 34th Street, and that I was on my way over there
to kill my gay lover.
Then I called Channel 4 News about the gang war going down on West
34th Street.
I quickly got into my car and headed over to 34th street.
There I saw two Idiots beating the crap out of each other in front
of six squad cars, a police helicopter, and a news crew.
NOW, I feel better. Anger management really works.
