I changed my telephone provider not long ago, and despite the myriad cries from friends telling me to "Break down and get a fucking cell phone, you stupid bastard," I held my ground and decided to just maintain a land line instead. For whatever reason, people seem to have a real problem with this--but I like people not being able to get a hold of me whenever the hell they feel like it. Besides, it's hard to use the "Oh, I must have missed your call" excuse when you constantly have a phone on you. Thanks, but no thanks.

As far as I can see, though, the ONLY good part of switching phone numbers is being able to fuck with people who call your new number trying to reach whoever it was that had the digits before you. At my last apartment, The Rev and I had a field day with this. The number had previously belonged to some people named Florence and Larry, and they apparently had trouble paying their bills. From the day we turned the phone on, creditors were calling us several times a day and demanding to speak to one of them, often trying to use threats and intimidation. But there was no "Florence" and no "Larry" to be found at the number-- there was only two immature drunks looking to amuse themselves. We'd actually get excited when the phone would ring and we'd see a "blocked" or "unknown" number on the Caller ID, because we knew we had another victim. The Rev would excitedly toss me the phone, I'd take a swig of whatever it was that I was drinking, and launch into calls like this one:

CREDITOR: (Thick Indian accent) Yes, may I speak with Florence, please?

JEREMY THE LONER: Who's this?

CREDITOR: Is Florence at home?

JTL: Who the hell is this? What do you want?

CREDITOR: This is regarding a personal business matter.

JTL: Oh, I see... (long pause) Are you fucking her?

CREDITOR: Uh...

JTL: Are you fucking my wife? Answer me, motherfucker!

CREDITOR: No, no, not like that. This is regarding a personal business...

JTL: Don't give me that bullshit about "personal business." If you're fucking my wife, that's MY business too, wouldn't you say?

CREDITOR: I need to speak to Florence.

JTL: Oh, you have some nerve. You go behind my back, fuck my wife, and now you have the audacity to pull this shit. If you want to fuck her, fine. But be a man about it! Don't go sneaking around behind my back. Hell, I'll even let you have her old vibrator. You know how hard it is to get her wet and ready for... hello? Hello...???

After the poor soul finally had enough abuse, they'd hang up. Then, me and The Rev would laugh our asses off and get back to drinking. Sometimes, I'd tell creditors that Florence was dead. Other times, I'd claim that she'd left me for another man and I'd be fake sobbing into the phone... and if the caller was a woman, I'd start hitting on her in a VERY inappropriate manner. No creditor heard the same story from me twice, and I just loved ruining their days. Ahh, we had fun back then.

So when I changed my number again recently, lo and behold, the creditors started in again almost immediately. Up until recently, Kohl's department store was calling my number at least three times a day. The first time it happened, they asked to speak to someone named Lois. I politely told them, "I'm sorry, you have the wrong number." (I'm not sure why I was so polite, but maybe I was in a good mood that day. Or maybe just "drunk and smiling.") The lady on the other end apologized, then hung up. So, that's the end of the story, right? Nope...

I kept seeing the number on the Caller ID over the next few days, and it annoyed me. I knew this Lois person must owe them money, but Christ, enough is enough. Maybe they didn't believe me when I said they had the wrong number. But then, Kohl's made two HUGE mistakes;

1) They called early in the morning and woke me up. On my day off, no less.

2) When I answered the phone, the fuckers hung up on me. I officially declared war at that point.

The next time they called, I was well into a 12 pack of beer and ready to make somebody's day a lot more interesting. It started like this;

KOHL'S LADY: Yes, is Lois home?

JEREMY THE LONER: (In my natural, obviously male voice) Speaking...

Of course, there was a long, long moment of puzzled silence.

KOHL'S LADY: Um, I needed to speak to Lois.

JEREMY THE LONER: You ARE talking to Lois, honey. Do you have some sort of problem??

The lady tried to be sly and asked me to confirm my address, but I refused. She then asked me for the last four digits of my social security number, but I explained that I didn't feel comfortable giving it out because I was afraid of "con artists."

KOHL'S LADY: I just need to verify that this is your account.

JEREMY THE LONER: You already know it's my fucking account. You're calling me, aren't you?

KOHL'S LADY: I just need some information from...

JEREMY THE LONER: Where the hell do you get off calling my house and demanding information? You won't even tell me what the fuck you want from me.

KOHL'S LADY: (Obviously flustered) Can I just get the last four digits of your social security number?

JEREMY THE LONER: No, you can't! Tell you what, why don't you give me your social security number??

KOHL'S LADY: That's not my job to give you that.

JEREMY THE LONER: Oh, but it's MY job to give you mine??

And it went on like this. The lady clearly started thinking that I wasn't Lois, because she kept making comments about how she'd "have to call Lois later." So, I'd bark back at her, "Listen, idiot, how many times do I have to tell you, I AM Lois!"

KOHL'S LADY: Okay, sir, I'm going to...

JEREMY THE LONER: WHAT... did you just call me...?

KOHL'S LADY: Well, uh...

JEREMY THE LONER: (Dropping my voice down another register) Did you just call me "sir?" Because I've gotta tell you, as a woman I find that VERY offensive. I'll bet my body puts yours to shame, missy! My tits are so firm, I... hello? Hello??

But for some odd reason, she'd hung up.

I was really ready the next time they called, and I was prepared to take things to new, ridiculous levels. But as it turns out, the real Lois had made a payment at a Kohl's store that day and they were just calling to confirm the transaction. I decided to go out with a bang.

JEREMY THE LONER: Yes, well, I was VERY insulted by your company the other day. One of your operators kept calling me "sir." Here I am, making the effort to get my account current and THIS is the thanks I get??

KOHL'S LADY 2: Oh my, I'm so sorry about that.

JEREMY THE LONER: I don't appreciate having my gender questioned. How would you like it if I kept calling YOU "sir?"

KOHL'S LADY 2: I'd be very upset.

JEREMY THE LONER: You bet your sweet tits you would! I'm WAY more woman than that dumb bitch who called yesterday. I'll tell you what, I'm thinking about a lawsuit here. I wanna speak to a supervisor!

This poor woman thought she was making a routine, "Thanks for your payment" call, but now she was dealing with a jacked up manly woman with an attitude. She kept claiming there were no supervisors there. Then, she got so flustered that she slipped up and called me "sir."

JEREMY THE LONER: Excuse me??? What did you just call me???

KOHL'S LADY 2: Uh, I... er.... um, well....

JEREMY THE LONER: What the fuck did you just say?? You're calling me "sir?" You think you're funny, is that it?

She tried to gloss over it and move on, but of course I wasn't having that. I kept ranting about how "insulted" I was about being mistaken for a man and how I didn't appreciate the snide remarks. I made absolutely no attempt to make my voice sound feminine... and wouldn't you know it? While I was continuing my diatribe, a wonderful thing happened; the woman slipped up once again and called me "sir."

JEREMY THE LONER: Oh my god... tell me you didn't just fucking call me "sir" again. Oh my fucking god. The nerve of you people is just un-fucking-believable! I WANT YOU TO PUT A SUPERVISOR ON THE PHONE. NOW!

KOHL'S LADY 2: (Wishing desperately that she was somewhere else) There aren't any supervisors here. But I've made a note in the computer about how your account is paid in full. And I've made a note about how you feel you were mistreated and insulted.

JEREMY THE LONER: What are you writing?? Read it back to me! Did you put a note about how you acted very offensively towards me??

KOHL'S LADY 2: Well, I...

JEREMY THE LONER: Yeah, make sure you write about that. You should write, "The first lady called Lois 'sir.' Then when she complained, I thought I'd be cute and call her the exact same thing. Twice. Because I think I'm pretty fucking funny." Are you typing this??

KOHL'S LADY 2: I wasn't trying to offend you. Honestly.

JEREMY THE LONER: You keep calling me "sir," don't you??? Don't you?? HUH??

KOHL'S LADY 2: (Near tears) You've got me all rattled! (Hangs up)

You may find this hard to believe, but Kohl's hasn't called back since. I know that I may have been a little too mean to those women, but I get my kicks in strange, immature ways. Besides, that's what they get for bugging me and hanging up on me. They won't make THAT mistake again.

WINNER = "LOIS"

-JTL

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