I got a call the other night from a fan of the previous owner of my phone number, AKA a John. He was looking for Raxxxxl. Gentlemen, someone out there’s imitating men, giving you guys a bad name.
The conversation went something like this –
“Hello, what’s your hourly rate?”
“Excuse me?” (It was after all the middle of the night.)
“Are you still open?”
“This isn’t who you think it is. She changed her number a long time ago.”
“How much do you charge?”
“What? No, I didn’t take over the business, I got this number from <insert telephone company name here>.”
“Oh, okay. What are you wearing?”
“Really?”
“Are you busy?”
My imagined reply –
“Getting ready to ask some strange guy over who just called for late night sex. I’m at <insert address of older brother>. Ask for me, his baby sister.”
No wait. I’ll give him my address. This post could be rename to How to Meet a Serial Killer. Gotta run, I need to sharpen my axe before he gets here.
