Getting Even (No Audi)

["Scruggs, Gross" <GScruggs@monterey.nps.navy.mil>]

Yes, the following is too long but given the recent 'road rage' thread and
some the clever ways of getting even, I will pass it along.  I don't know if
this is true or from someone's fantasy, but it did not happen to me.  I do
have caller ID.

Regards, Gross Scruggs



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 and could 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 asshole!" and hung up.  Next to his
phone number I wrote the word "asshole," 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 asshole!" 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
asshole.  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 asshole!"  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.  

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 oout.  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 asshole; there sure are a lot of assholes
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 and yelling, "You're an asshole!"  (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 asshole!" And I slammed the
phone down.

After I hung up I added Don Hansen's number to my speed dialer. For a while
things seemed to be going better for me.  Now when I had a problem I had two
assholes to call.  Then after several months of calling the assholes 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 Asshole #1.  A man answered nicely saying, "Hello." I yelled
"You're an asshole!", but I didn't hang up. The asshole 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 said "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, Asshole!" and I hung
up.  Then I called Asshole #2. He answered, "Hello."  I said, "Hello,
Asshole!"  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 Asshole!"  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
Assholes kicking the crap out of each other in front of 6 squad cars and a
police helicopter,...  I taped it all off the evening news.