cell phone solicitations

The older I get the worse I get and now that I'm quite old I'm perfectly terrible. We had a large nuclear family, my dad had a commanding officer, it could be anyone for any one of us. We were each taught to be polite because of so much unknown.

My parent's would be appalled with my telephone manners today that run 180° counter to all that they taught me. They would be appalled with my language that is opposite to anything they allowed.

Where:

"Hello, this is the Ahoy residence, Chip speaking. May I help you?

Became: "Hi. This is Chip." Pause caused by computer-dialed reconnection to human voice somewhere else on earth while displaying some hijacked Colorado number, and following the introduction, "Well you can fuck right off."

Pleasant sounding old lady voice purporting to be some public researcher is told the same thing as ...

Toxically masculine powerful voice that sounds like it could be a policeman calling for the purported mysterious "Policeman's Ball" that cannot even be visualized. Are you kidding me, a ball! The police force putting on a formal ball, and one they need help to put on? "Mr. Overly Masculine Voice posing as policeman, you can just fuck right off."

You called me three times and left messages about my 20-year-old truck's warranty telling me each time this is the last chance to upgrade, "You can just fuck right off."

An insurance outfit connected me to some guy in India with an incomprehensible accent who reconnected me to a woman in heavy London-accent who was told to fuck right off and stay fucked.

It's my new policy to be rude as possible to discourage every contact from staying in this disgusting wantonly intrusive computer-dial sales business.

Now I'm primed and ready for maximum rudeness with each call that comes through as  "Colorado" or "California" or whatever.

Which means I must also be 100% flexible because I answered primed for bear when my brother called, always delightful to hear from him, and when my new housekeeper called to make contact, and when a new medical specialist who is incalculably helpful to me called to confirm an appointment and give instructions how to get there.




Before all this global cell phone intrusive activity whereby private numbers are abused continuously with computer-dialed cold calls, I had already broken strict family telephone-rules. Cell phones did that. Early tape message recorders did that.

The change from respectful proper phone etiquette was not instant.

I'd answer as my own butler, for example, to amuse my friends, but one time it turned out to be my dad who taught us all strict acceptable telephone conformity, and I'd think, "Oh shit. Now I'm in trouble again." But instead, uncharacteristically, he was amused. Vastly amused, not just regular amused. He was really tickled with the heightened formality of the put-on butler voice. He called my mother to the phone and insisted I repeat how I answered his call even though it's not possible to be funny when something unusual is expected so I had to explain twice I was just playing around being silly. Sorry. I won't do it again.

Yes I will.

No I won't.

Yes I will. I'll answer like Micky Mouse and hold it like there's nothing unusual about Micky Mouse answering my phone. I tell the caller I'll go get Chip "heh-heh"  then pause, brush against phone mouthpiece, and pick up as myself when I actually hadn't moved an inch.

Or Queen Elizabeth.

Or W.C. Fields.

Or whatever voice I'm playing around with on the day that they call.

I learned that joke doesn't work with immigrant friends.

One Christmas season I called a friend and got a recording.

Called another friend and got a recording.

Called another friend and got a recording.

And so on up to six friends.

Apparently everyone was traveling for the holiday. Boy. Talk about feeling isolated. Without knowing what was actually going on I honestly felt like I was the only person who stayed in town for Christmas.

To overcome my loneliness I called them all back and left them all the same message. I felt like I was playing with them even though they're not here.  I pretended to be Queen Elizabeth even though I didn't sound anything like her. Just a high-pitched weak reedy voice in a posh British accent that gets specific words mispronounced so my spiel included those words.

I worked out a script.

I told them I was Queen Elizabeth and I was calling all my loyal subjects right the whole world round to wish them all, each and everyone, one-by-one, all by myself, in-di-vidually, a personable and very very merry Christmas and a very very happy new year.

'What? Oh, do shut up, Charles, I'm on the phone."

     "He's such an anus horribilis." (It was right at that time she said "annus horribilis" that already had Americans cracking up.)

'What? Americans are not loyal subjects? "As if she's just realizing she's wasting her time calling all Americans.

*dire change in tone* "Well." *pause* "That's different."

*high pitched reedy voice* "Nevermind." *click*

So, like some fifteen of those.

The exact same message over and over and over on different old fashion phone message tape recorders.

Then I called a number and they answered!

I was completely unprepared to have an actual conversation. No real reason to call them. I just wanted to leave the same ridiculous Queen Elizabeth recording, but they blew it by answering and then I was stuck talking to them live. Idly. With nothing specific to impart.

Boy, did I feel stupid. That put an end to the calling. Or I would have kept going. Through my whole phone/address book.

Then I forgot about the whole thing and about a week later I went to a Christmas party in a high rise condominium with about fifty people, maybe more, and as I arrived the people who got there early were all talking about the strange Queen Elizabeth call they had received earlier. They were actually talking about it! They all got the same message. They thought it was hilarious. Some were cracking up recalling it, repeating the lines. They said they played it over and over trying to figure out who it was. And now realizing other people got the same message they joined forces trying to figure out who it was together and the most astute among them pinned it on me right as I walked into the room.

It's you isn't it?

What?

You're the guy who called us and left the Christmas Queen Elizabeth message.

Guilty.

The guy from Nicaragua blew it off. He absolutely could not comprehend anything about the call. None of it made any sense to him. You should see him. He's an adorable man. Picture the purest Latino boy imaginable then imagine that grown up. Always dressed and groomed perfectly. He assumed it was just some crackpot doing something incomprehensible. He didn't bother trying to figure it out. He just erased the recording. And he was right.

The downside of that joke was they all called me Queen Elizabeth for an entire year. And I only imitated her once. I mean, fifteen times. Once.

My parents would not approve of any of this. Theirs was a different world before cell phones and before phone message recordings. Although Dad did like that butler thing.