IJMC - Eight-Two-Three-Four-Eight-Six-Three

Baby, baby don't you lose my number. Now that isn't my number, that's the 
number of a jerk. Sometimes I wonder why certain people have phones. 
Other times, I just wonder.                                         -dave







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.  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 a jerk!" and hung up.  Next
to his phone number I wrote the word "Jerk," 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 a
jerk!"  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 jerk.  Then
one day I had an idea.  I dialed his number, then heard his voice,
"Hello."  I made up a name.  "Hi.  This is Herman with 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 a jerk!"

And 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.  Just dial 823-4863.

The 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 stall.  I
backed up a little more to give her plenty of room to pull out.  Great,
I thought, she's finally leaving.

All of a sudden this black camaro come flying up the parking isle in the
wrong direction and pulls 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 a jerk, there's sure a lot of jerks 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 823-4863 and yelling, "You're a
jerk!" (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 a jerk!"  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 jerks to call.  Then after several months of calling
the jerks and hanging up on them, the whole thing started to seem
like an obligation.  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 Jerk #1.  A man answered nicely saying, "Hello."
I yelled "You're a jerk!", but I didn't hang up.

The jerk 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."

"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, Jerk!" and I hung up.

Then I called Jerk #2.

He answered, "Hello."

I said, "Hello, Jerk!"

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 Jerk!"  And I hung up.

Then I picked up the phone and called the police.  I told them a big
gang fight was going down at 1802 West 34th Street.  After that I
climbed into my car and headed over to 34th Street to watch the whole
thing.

I turned onto 34th Street and parked my car under the shade of a tree
half a block from Jerk #2's house.  There were two guys fighting out
front.  Suddenly there were about 12 police cars and a helicopter.  The
police wrestled the two men to the ground and took them away.

A couple of months go by and I get a call for jury duty.  I was picked
to be on a trial of two guys charged with disorderly conduct.  As luck
would have it, it happened to be the same two guys.  I might have
influenced the jury, because when they announced the verdict, they said,
"We the jury find the defendants to be guilty, and a couple of jerks!"