Ugh, lord.... -.-
Business Plans
Me: “And your phone number please?”
SC:“Oh, I’m at a friend’s house.”
Annnnd? This may come as a shock but I didn’t ask where you were. I asked what your phone number was. Now I’m perfectly willing to accept, and in fact am quite confident you do possess, at least some parole restrictions. However, I doubt any of them restrict you from telling me your phone number when outside of your house.
Me: “And the product number please?”
SC: “I don’t have one.”
…..you’re calling to place an order but do not have the item number of what you would like to order? This seems rather counterintuitive. Should you not have made these decisions before you called? It seems to me that the topic would have come up in our conversation sooner or later. I don’t know what you were expecting? For me to regale you with various tales and fables for 20 or 30 minutes while you did your shopping? Or perhaps you wish me to just sit here and sing various 80’s songs just to make your shopping experience authentic? I’m quite partial to Bonnie Tyler and Heart, myself. But I do not have the vocal range to invoke either. Perhaps some Rick Astley?
Me: “…..Do you know number of the product you would like to order?”
SC:“Oh, xxxx”
Me: “Alright, what size?”
SC: “7.”
Me: “……..7?”
SC: “Yeah”
Me: “That comes up as a pair of jeans, there’s no size 7-“
SC: “Oh. Size 6 than.”
Me: “No, they go by waist measurement, not dress size.”
SC: “Oh……”
Me: “….so what size would you like?”
SC: “7.”
Right. That’s it. Somewhere in this world there is a small, impoverished nation that none the less has an ambassador or consult in Canada and the US. You know, some country where ten Canadian dollars can buy you a car with the exchange rate into the native currency. I am going to find this country and I am going to hire their ambassadors by setting up an economic agreement whereby they work for me within North America. Than, using their diplomatic immunity, I will have them fly around North America beating people with rods at my request.
Each one will eventually be dismissed by an outraged Canadian or US Government and have to return to his homeland. But they will be quickly replaced by a new ambassador who will resume the previous one’s post in my employment. Thus continuing the necessary work ( and rod ) that I entrust him with. This cycle will continue unabated while my seemingly modest wages flow back into their country to create jobs and build infrastructure.
After I have employed their services for my own private affairs. Extensively. I will branch out and begin offering services to the public. Offering the delivery of a dedicated rod beating to anyone that requires such services. Granted, I will be quite limited in my ability to accept contracts as I will only has 1 ambassador operating in each company. Therefore I will auction our services on eBay and let the consumer market compete against itself to ramp up our service fees.
It will be glorious, and I will be rich. Also, the people of Kaflakshigjistan will prosper.
Me: “They do not go by dress size. They go by waist size.”
SC: “Size 7’ waist.”
Me: “………….”
….when one of my company’s representatives shows up on your doorstep, don’t be afraid. Just think of the wonderful new school you’re helping build for the children in the village of Apujorgi, Kaflakshigjistan.
Jerk
SC: "It's xxx-xxx-xxxx"
Me: “Alright, so its xxx-xxx-xxxx?”
SC: “Yes. Wow, you’re very efficient! I’m impressed!”
Yes, amazing isn’t it! Normally we just have someone down front on the sidewalk offering $10 and a Jello shooter to anyone that’ll come inside and take some calls for an hour. But I’ve actually been here for a couple of days! So I’ve learned all the secrets. I’m smarts.
Hot Tips
SC: “Hi, my name is Vick”
Sigh, hello Vick. What is it this time?
SC: “I tried to call the CIA and I’ve run into blockades.”
What’s that? You mean the CIA won’t talk to you? I can’t possibly imagine why that would be! You seem so lucid and informative. Surely your various theories and personal delusions should be of great interest to them and matters of national security. Granted, that still doesn’t explain why you’re calling me to complain about the CIA? I'm not their customer service line.
Perhaps you should call the CIA again and ask for a manager? If you complain enough they might at least send you some coupons for a free footlong to make you shut up.
Hot Tips
SC: “Hi, my name is Vick.”
Hello, Vick. What now?
SC: “I’m not calling you because of the Department of Defense.”
Me: “That's nice. I really have no idea why you call us.”
SC: “I’m calling you because I want to talk to the CIA officer that grabbed me in 1986.”
Me: “But this isn't the CIA.”
SC: “….well you guys were there!”
Me: “No we weren’t.”
SC: “……..”
Me: “………”
Much as I love screwing with your head, I do have one question to put forward: 1986? You sound somewhat younger than I am and I was 6 in 1986. So unless you were dragged away and water boarded halfway through an episode of Thundercats I must once again cast doubt upon your version of events. I also doubt you were able to provide any actionable intelligence beyond “Sarah Peters has cooties”.
Hot Tips
SC: “They wanna charge President Bush with war crimes and I can’t let that happen!”
I’m sure former president Bush and the war crime charges he’s not actually being brought up on will appreciate your support, Vick.
SC: “If anyone ever goes after President Bush I’m going to rat all these guys out!”
What guys? You know I really have trouble trying to piece together this diseased reality you live in. There’s no consistency like Prince Charles guy, and all of your wild theories and delusions are actually rather mundane and boring. So you’re not even entertaining like Prince Charles guy. I hate to say it, and I don’t want to hurt your feelings here, but you’re just not very good at this.
In order to be a really good crazy nocturnal caller you have to mix equal parts delusion, humour, shock and pure lunancy. The only thing you’re bringing to the table is paranoia and mild delusion. That’s not crazy caller material. That’s weird hobo that talks to himself while riding public transit material. You’re not a crazy conspiracy theorist, you’re just the guy out front of Granville Station that occasionally stands up and yells at an invisible animal.
Just give it up dude. This just isn’t your thing. It’s time to move on and find a new calling.
Payment Options
Me: “And which card would you like to use?”
SC: “VISA. Did you need the card number?”
No! Don’t! Not here, it’s too dangerous! Listen to me very carefully: Close all your blinds and curtains. Now I need you to collect the following items: Your VISA card, a flash light, a sheet, a pencil, a piece of paper, lighter fluid and a lighter. Now, turn off all the lights in the house. Go down into the basement and find a corner as far away from any windows or doors as you can get. Throw the sheet over yourself and turn on the flashlight. Now very quickly write your name, billing address and VISA number down on the piece of paper. Once you finish, turn off the flashlight. Wait for an hour to make sure any watchful eyes have moved on. Now turn on the flashlight again, come out from under the blanket and throw your VISA on the ground. Douse it with the lighter fluid and set it aflame to destroy the evidence.
Quickly now, take the piece of paper and fold it at least 8 times. Stuff it in your pocket and leave the house. Don’t take anything with you. Not even the car. You have to go on foot. It’s the only way to be sure. You need to get to downtown Vancouver. Even if you have to hitchhike. You have to make it downtown to Granville Station. But you can’t take the Skytrain, that’s too obvious. Once you make it to the station, go to the Granville Street exit. Now hang a right, walk to the end of the block and hang another right. Start going down that street. Eventually you'll hit a 7/11 and, inevitably, there will be someone outside panhandling.
Go up to him and drop the piece of paper in his cup. Tell him the code phrase: “You need this more than I do”. Than knock on the door of the 7/11 three times. Now walk away. Don’t run. Stay calm and walk away normally. But whatever you do don’t look back. Do not look back.
Your order should arrive in 1-2 weeks.
Afflictions
Now, we’re all pretty use to the sight of a grizzled unshaven man that looks like he would shank you in the kidneys for a can of soup getting on the Skytrain or Bus with his massive bag of empty cans. As he roves from station to station, so that he might dig through bins to add to his haul. So I thought nothing of it when he stepped onto the train, glared at everyone to see if anyone had a can of soup that he might shank them for, than sat down.
What I was not expecting was for him to suddenly whip out a 2 litre bucket of ice cream from out of nowhere and start shoveling it into his mouth like it was the only medicine that made the voices stop. At first this struck me as odd. Than I was bemused. But than I realized I was staring into the face of human tragedy. This man has a problem. An addiction he just can’t overcome that has lowered him to this point. The sole focus of his life somehow getting more money so he can get just one more fix……..of what appears to be Rocky Road.
Oh you may laugh. But this man is suffering. There are no rehab centres for Ben & Jerry’s. This man has to face his demons alone.
Right
SC: “I tried to order this jacket before and they said it was out of order.”
….I’m pretty sure that’s not what they said. Though I’m also pretty sure it’s possible for you to have so many difficulties attempting to operate a jacket that you may in fact declare it out of order.
YES!
Me: “Do you have your account number?”
SC: “Yes, its 215-….ARE YOU THERE?!”
….yes, I am here. It has not even been 3 seconds since I stopped speaking and you began. I have not gone anywhere. I do not even know why you would suspect that I had in such a short span of time.
SC: “It should be under Mary A.”
Me: “Al-“
SC: “ARE YOU THERE?!”
Yes! I am here. Relax. I don’t know what sort of crippling abandonment issues you are struggling with, but I assure you that I am in fact here and shall be for the duration of this call. After which you may return to your sorrow and despair. Staring at the phone wonder why your kids never call you anymore. ( I think I might know why ).
SC: “Oh, I had one more question. But maybe you can’t answer.”
Translation: I am about to ask you a question I know you don’t have the answer too but childhood cranial trauma and a grade 3 education compel me to do so anyhow.
SC: “I guess <insert promotion here> for <direct competitor> is over now isn't it?”
I rest my case.
Me: “I would have absolutely no information regarding <competitor>, sorry.”
SC: “Oh, well I got a whole bunch of mail here. A couple from you an-ARE YOU STILL THERE?”
YES. FOR THE LOVE OF COCKRINGS AND POPCORN CHICKEN I AM STILL HERE. I have never been more here in my entire fucking life. In fact I am positively livid with here. See this vein popping out on my forehead? It’s full of here.
Haha, What?
Me: “And how did you hear about the product?”
C: “I think I saw it on Mythbusters.”
…I….honestly have no idea what to say to that. All I can do is hope that if indeed it did appear on Mythbusters, it was promptly lit on fire, blown up or shot at on high speed camera. And that there is a Youtube clip.
Hot Tips
SC: “I know the fact that God exists cannot be proven or disproven by philosophers.”
A strangely metaphysical note to start my shift on. But very well. I assume this will somehow lead to Prince Char-
SC: “But the fact that Stephen Harper is related to a herd of goat fuckers cannot be proven or disproven-“
-annnd that’s my queue to go “…wait, what?”. Bravo, you have done it again. Tossed a little curveball in the middle of what would otherwise be a mundane repeat of one of your previous episodes. How the heck did you get from “Existence of God” to “Canada’s prime minister may or may not be related to people who have illicit relationships with livestock”? That’s some serious six degrees of separation right there.
How do you keep track of all this? Are you using Excel or something to keep track of it? Are there spreadsheets? Because I’m having a hard time figuring it out by proxy here. I don’t suppose you’ve prepared, say, a PowerPoint presentation or something have you? Maybe some sort of lecture or work shop? It would be most helpful. Is there a number I can call to register for your seminar, perhaps?
Hot Tips
SC: “Write a prayer on a $1 or a $2 or a $5 and burn it and Jesus will give you supernatural powers. Like ESP or Telekinesis.”
Oh, sweet. Now you’re getting into specifics. You were always kind of vague on the exact nature of the super powers Jesus grants in exchange for small bills. Although, I do hope you’re aware that we don’t actually have $1 or $2 bills anymore? You could attempt to set a Loonie or Twoonie on fire if you want I suppose. However, I’m not sure that’ll be very effective short of maybe a blowtorch or arc welder?
......
SC: “Why is the fire alarm going off?!”
I'm sorry, but company policy forbids me from directly interfering in the course of natural selection. So I'm afraid I can't answer that question. Is there anything else I can help you with today?
?!
Me: "Are you calling to place an order?
SC: “YAY! I’M HER TA PLACE AN ORDAR!”
….right. Ummm….how do I put this delicately? You really haven’t made a good first impression. First impressions are important you know. Ideally you want to create a positive first impression. Or at the very least a politely neutral one. The first impression you have given me here is “I wear a helmet to brush my teeth.”.
Sigh
Me: “I’m sorry, you have the wrong number.”
SC: “Wrong number? What number am I suppose to call than?”
Yet again someone actually verbalizes this question. Yet again I wonder how it could have possibly gone from their brain to their mouth without any other part of their mind throwing up a roadblock and going “Wait! That is a god damn stupid question!”. Because it is. I could excuse it as a one time brain fart. But it is a consistent inquiry and it still baffles me to this day.
I’ve called the wrong number, thus reaching a random stranger by accident…..clearly this person must not only know who I was trying to reach but also have their number! A feat that would require potent physic abilities. I can only guess they’re banking on the off chance I set a $5 on fire while talking to Jesus.
annnnnd rest......for the moment.
Business Plans
Me: “And your phone number please?”
SC:“Oh, I’m at a friend’s house.”
Annnnd? This may come as a shock but I didn’t ask where you were. I asked what your phone number was. Now I’m perfectly willing to accept, and in fact am quite confident you do possess, at least some parole restrictions. However, I doubt any of them restrict you from telling me your phone number when outside of your house.
Me: “And the product number please?”
SC: “I don’t have one.”
…..you’re calling to place an order but do not have the item number of what you would like to order? This seems rather counterintuitive. Should you not have made these decisions before you called? It seems to me that the topic would have come up in our conversation sooner or later. I don’t know what you were expecting? For me to regale you with various tales and fables for 20 or 30 minutes while you did your shopping? Or perhaps you wish me to just sit here and sing various 80’s songs just to make your shopping experience authentic? I’m quite partial to Bonnie Tyler and Heart, myself. But I do not have the vocal range to invoke either. Perhaps some Rick Astley?
Me: “…..Do you know number of the product you would like to order?”
SC:“Oh, xxxx”
Me: “Alright, what size?”
SC: “7.”
Me: “……..7?”
SC: “Yeah”
Me: “That comes up as a pair of jeans, there’s no size 7-“
SC: “Oh. Size 6 than.”
Me: “No, they go by waist measurement, not dress size.”
SC: “Oh……”
Me: “….so what size would you like?”
SC: “7.”
Right. That’s it. Somewhere in this world there is a small, impoverished nation that none the less has an ambassador or consult in Canada and the US. You know, some country where ten Canadian dollars can buy you a car with the exchange rate into the native currency. I am going to find this country and I am going to hire their ambassadors by setting up an economic agreement whereby they work for me within North America. Than, using their diplomatic immunity, I will have them fly around North America beating people with rods at my request.
Each one will eventually be dismissed by an outraged Canadian or US Government and have to return to his homeland. But they will be quickly replaced by a new ambassador who will resume the previous one’s post in my employment. Thus continuing the necessary work ( and rod ) that I entrust him with. This cycle will continue unabated while my seemingly modest wages flow back into their country to create jobs and build infrastructure.
After I have employed their services for my own private affairs. Extensively. I will branch out and begin offering services to the public. Offering the delivery of a dedicated rod beating to anyone that requires such services. Granted, I will be quite limited in my ability to accept contracts as I will only has 1 ambassador operating in each company. Therefore I will auction our services on eBay and let the consumer market compete against itself to ramp up our service fees.
It will be glorious, and I will be rich. Also, the people of Kaflakshigjistan will prosper.
Me: “They do not go by dress size. They go by waist size.”
SC: “Size 7’ waist.”
Me: “………….”
….when one of my company’s representatives shows up on your doorstep, don’t be afraid. Just think of the wonderful new school you’re helping build for the children in the village of Apujorgi, Kaflakshigjistan.
Jerk
SC: "It's xxx-xxx-xxxx"
Me: “Alright, so its xxx-xxx-xxxx?”
SC: “Yes. Wow, you’re very efficient! I’m impressed!”
Yes, amazing isn’t it! Normally we just have someone down front on the sidewalk offering $10 and a Jello shooter to anyone that’ll come inside and take some calls for an hour. But I’ve actually been here for a couple of days! So I’ve learned all the secrets. I’m smarts.
Hot Tips
SC: “Hi, my name is Vick”
Sigh, hello Vick. What is it this time?
SC: “I tried to call the CIA and I’ve run into blockades.”
What’s that? You mean the CIA won’t talk to you? I can’t possibly imagine why that would be! You seem so lucid and informative. Surely your various theories and personal delusions should be of great interest to them and matters of national security. Granted, that still doesn’t explain why you’re calling me to complain about the CIA? I'm not their customer service line.
Perhaps you should call the CIA again and ask for a manager? If you complain enough they might at least send you some coupons for a free footlong to make you shut up.
Hot Tips
SC: “Hi, my name is Vick.”
Hello, Vick. What now?
SC: “I’m not calling you because of the Department of Defense.”
Me: “That's nice. I really have no idea why you call us.”
SC: “I’m calling you because I want to talk to the CIA officer that grabbed me in 1986.”
Me: “But this isn't the CIA.”
SC: “….well you guys were there!”
Me: “No we weren’t.”
SC: “……..”
Me: “………”
Much as I love screwing with your head, I do have one question to put forward: 1986? You sound somewhat younger than I am and I was 6 in 1986. So unless you were dragged away and water boarded halfway through an episode of Thundercats I must once again cast doubt upon your version of events. I also doubt you were able to provide any actionable intelligence beyond “Sarah Peters has cooties”.
Hot Tips
SC: “They wanna charge President Bush with war crimes and I can’t let that happen!”
I’m sure former president Bush and the war crime charges he’s not actually being brought up on will appreciate your support, Vick.
SC: “If anyone ever goes after President Bush I’m going to rat all these guys out!”
What guys? You know I really have trouble trying to piece together this diseased reality you live in. There’s no consistency like Prince Charles guy, and all of your wild theories and delusions are actually rather mundane and boring. So you’re not even entertaining like Prince Charles guy. I hate to say it, and I don’t want to hurt your feelings here, but you’re just not very good at this.
In order to be a really good crazy nocturnal caller you have to mix equal parts delusion, humour, shock and pure lunancy. The only thing you’re bringing to the table is paranoia and mild delusion. That’s not crazy caller material. That’s weird hobo that talks to himself while riding public transit material. You’re not a crazy conspiracy theorist, you’re just the guy out front of Granville Station that occasionally stands up and yells at an invisible animal.
Just give it up dude. This just isn’t your thing. It’s time to move on and find a new calling.
Payment Options
Me: “And which card would you like to use?”
SC: “VISA. Did you need the card number?”
No! Don’t! Not here, it’s too dangerous! Listen to me very carefully: Close all your blinds and curtains. Now I need you to collect the following items: Your VISA card, a flash light, a sheet, a pencil, a piece of paper, lighter fluid and a lighter. Now, turn off all the lights in the house. Go down into the basement and find a corner as far away from any windows or doors as you can get. Throw the sheet over yourself and turn on the flashlight. Now very quickly write your name, billing address and VISA number down on the piece of paper. Once you finish, turn off the flashlight. Wait for an hour to make sure any watchful eyes have moved on. Now turn on the flashlight again, come out from under the blanket and throw your VISA on the ground. Douse it with the lighter fluid and set it aflame to destroy the evidence.
Quickly now, take the piece of paper and fold it at least 8 times. Stuff it in your pocket and leave the house. Don’t take anything with you. Not even the car. You have to go on foot. It’s the only way to be sure. You need to get to downtown Vancouver. Even if you have to hitchhike. You have to make it downtown to Granville Station. But you can’t take the Skytrain, that’s too obvious. Once you make it to the station, go to the Granville Street exit. Now hang a right, walk to the end of the block and hang another right. Start going down that street. Eventually you'll hit a 7/11 and, inevitably, there will be someone outside panhandling.
Go up to him and drop the piece of paper in his cup. Tell him the code phrase: “You need this more than I do”. Than knock on the door of the 7/11 three times. Now walk away. Don’t run. Stay calm and walk away normally. But whatever you do don’t look back. Do not look back.
Your order should arrive in 1-2 weeks.
Afflictions
Now, we’re all pretty use to the sight of a grizzled unshaven man that looks like he would shank you in the kidneys for a can of soup getting on the Skytrain or Bus with his massive bag of empty cans. As he roves from station to station, so that he might dig through bins to add to his haul. So I thought nothing of it when he stepped onto the train, glared at everyone to see if anyone had a can of soup that he might shank them for, than sat down.
What I was not expecting was for him to suddenly whip out a 2 litre bucket of ice cream from out of nowhere and start shoveling it into his mouth like it was the only medicine that made the voices stop. At first this struck me as odd. Than I was bemused. But than I realized I was staring into the face of human tragedy. This man has a problem. An addiction he just can’t overcome that has lowered him to this point. The sole focus of his life somehow getting more money so he can get just one more fix……..of what appears to be Rocky Road.
Oh you may laugh. But this man is suffering. There are no rehab centres for Ben & Jerry’s. This man has to face his demons alone.
Right
SC: “I tried to order this jacket before and they said it was out of order.”
….I’m pretty sure that’s not what they said. Though I’m also pretty sure it’s possible for you to have so many difficulties attempting to operate a jacket that you may in fact declare it out of order.
YES!
Me: “Do you have your account number?”
SC: “Yes, its 215-….ARE YOU THERE?!”
….yes, I am here. It has not even been 3 seconds since I stopped speaking and you began. I have not gone anywhere. I do not even know why you would suspect that I had in such a short span of time.
SC: “It should be under Mary A.”
Me: “Al-“
SC: “ARE YOU THERE?!”
Yes! I am here. Relax. I don’t know what sort of crippling abandonment issues you are struggling with, but I assure you that I am in fact here and shall be for the duration of this call. After which you may return to your sorrow and despair. Staring at the phone wonder why your kids never call you anymore. ( I think I might know why ).
SC: “Oh, I had one more question. But maybe you can’t answer.”
Translation: I am about to ask you a question I know you don’t have the answer too but childhood cranial trauma and a grade 3 education compel me to do so anyhow.
SC: “I guess <insert promotion here> for <direct competitor> is over now isn't it?”
I rest my case.
Me: “I would have absolutely no information regarding <competitor>, sorry.”
SC: “Oh, well I got a whole bunch of mail here. A couple from you an-ARE YOU STILL THERE?”
YES. FOR THE LOVE OF COCKRINGS AND POPCORN CHICKEN I AM STILL HERE. I have never been more here in my entire fucking life. In fact I am positively livid with here. See this vein popping out on my forehead? It’s full of here.
Haha, What?
Me: “And how did you hear about the product?”
C: “I think I saw it on Mythbusters.”
…I….honestly have no idea what to say to that. All I can do is hope that if indeed it did appear on Mythbusters, it was promptly lit on fire, blown up or shot at on high speed camera. And that there is a Youtube clip.
Hot Tips
SC: “I know the fact that God exists cannot be proven or disproven by philosophers.”
A strangely metaphysical note to start my shift on. But very well. I assume this will somehow lead to Prince Char-
SC: “But the fact that Stephen Harper is related to a herd of goat fuckers cannot be proven or disproven-“
-annnd that’s my queue to go “…wait, what?”. Bravo, you have done it again. Tossed a little curveball in the middle of what would otherwise be a mundane repeat of one of your previous episodes. How the heck did you get from “Existence of God” to “Canada’s prime minister may or may not be related to people who have illicit relationships with livestock”? That’s some serious six degrees of separation right there.
How do you keep track of all this? Are you using Excel or something to keep track of it? Are there spreadsheets? Because I’m having a hard time figuring it out by proxy here. I don’t suppose you’ve prepared, say, a PowerPoint presentation or something have you? Maybe some sort of lecture or work shop? It would be most helpful. Is there a number I can call to register for your seminar, perhaps?
Hot Tips
SC: “Write a prayer on a $1 or a $2 or a $5 and burn it and Jesus will give you supernatural powers. Like ESP or Telekinesis.”
Oh, sweet. Now you’re getting into specifics. You were always kind of vague on the exact nature of the super powers Jesus grants in exchange for small bills. Although, I do hope you’re aware that we don’t actually have $1 or $2 bills anymore? You could attempt to set a Loonie or Twoonie on fire if you want I suppose. However, I’m not sure that’ll be very effective short of maybe a blowtorch or arc welder?
......
SC: “Why is the fire alarm going off?!”
I'm sorry, but company policy forbids me from directly interfering in the course of natural selection. So I'm afraid I can't answer that question. Is there anything else I can help you with today?
?!
Me: "Are you calling to place an order?
SC: “YAY! I’M HER TA PLACE AN ORDAR!”
….right. Ummm….how do I put this delicately? You really haven’t made a good first impression. First impressions are important you know. Ideally you want to create a positive first impression. Or at the very least a politely neutral one. The first impression you have given me here is “I wear a helmet to brush my teeth.”.
Sigh
Me: “I’m sorry, you have the wrong number.”
SC: “Wrong number? What number am I suppose to call than?”
Yet again someone actually verbalizes this question. Yet again I wonder how it could have possibly gone from their brain to their mouth without any other part of their mind throwing up a roadblock and going “Wait! That is a god damn stupid question!”. Because it is. I could excuse it as a one time brain fart. But it is a consistent inquiry and it still baffles me to this day.
I’ve called the wrong number, thus reaching a random stranger by accident…..clearly this person must not only know who I was trying to reach but also have their number! A feat that would require potent physic abilities. I can only guess they’re banking on the off chance I set a $5 on fire while talking to Jesus.
annnnnd rest......for the moment.
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