Since I’m on the subject of oddball ways of answering the phone…
I used to live in another small town. There was exactly one strip club in town, and its phone number was one frickin’ digit off from my personal phone number. I was always getting wrong numbers. I learned to deal with it.
-ring-
“Hello.”
“Hey, what’s the special tonight?”
I had no idea they ran specials, but…
“Two for one blowjobs in the backroom.”
“Great!”
A bit nastier, but he asked for it.
-ring-
“Hello.”
“Lemme talk to Monique.”
I tried playing it straight for once. “You calling Teasers? You’ve got the wrong number.” I hung up.
Phone rings again, same guy.
“Dammit, lemme talk to Monique now!”
Ooo-kay then. “Monique ain’t here. She just left with some guy and said she’d be back in an hour or so. Try then.”
I’m a bad person. To assholes.
Back before CallerID was ubiquitous, and telemarketers were human(ish), I had another way of screening them on my landline.
“Special Agent Smith, Telephone Fraud Division. How may I help you, sir or madame?”
The response to that one was invariably an instantaneous -click- of disconnect.
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