Dear dimwit on the phone

My standard response to such inquiries...."You know, I was wondering that as well. If you happen to find out call back and let me know. Thanks, have a nice night."

 

Yet, I get this all the time from one school when one of the TV or radio stations names someone their player of the week/team of the week. Yeah, I'll be happy to send out a shooter to promote the TV or radio station as soon as they start promoting my column on their air for free!

 

This sounds like my joint. All the outside calls after 5 pm and on weekends get routed to my desk (oh, joy!).

In the course of a week, I get people calling in obscure news tips, people reporting the obvious (there's a fire at such-and-such bar), people calling to cancel their subscription (I tell them there's a $1,000 early termination fee -- that usually shuts them up quick), people wanting to place an ad or obit. The strangest was --- and I'm not making this up -- someone calling at 10 pm on a Friday night wanting us to run a notice about their cat who had run away!!

 

I got a voicemail at 2:30 a.m. Tuesday morning from some employee, I think, who said he was going to show up to work. He's an inserter or something, but the guy couldn't bother to call his boss. Of course you're not going to get the smartest people in the world who work in the middle of the night in a boom town where there are plenty of other jobs.

 

Answered a call once where the person on the other end of the line wanted to let us know about the halo around the moon. He seemed a bit let down when I told him we knew about it and that it was the result of atmospheric conditions.

 

Took a call one night from a woman who claimed she saw the moon explode.

 

Those can be fun though, depending if you are willing to play along.

 

The silliest, a lady (who happens to be related to our company person) woke up from her nap to fireworks on the holiday and thought it was an invasion.

I can only imagine what the people taking 911 calls deal with on a daily basis.

 

We have a guy who calls us every night, wants to know when the local teams are playing. Called in last weekend, wanted to know what state the Miami Hurricanes were from.

 

Ohio!

 

Just remembered this one from my journalism past many moons ago:

Dear Loser Cross-Country coach:

I sent out the team preview forms into your school mailbox prior to school opening, but apparently you did not get them. Fine, it happens.

So, I show up to your team's practice, take a few photos of the kids running, and you said you had time to answer the questions on the form right then and there. Great.

Now, to be honest, you really weren't very quotable. No problem. You're in your first year as a varsity coach, and to be honest, a lot of veteran coaches aren't quotable. It happens.

But when I interviewed you, you specificially said, "We've got some really fast runners this year." I wrote it down right away. It ran in the paper.

So then, the very next morning, I hit the newsroom answering machine button, only to hear you screaming about how you were misquoted. Misquoted? How? You don't have really fast runners? Really? I'm sure all the parents will love to have heard you say that. My boss hears this message, and somewhat amused, tells me to call you to find out what the fuck your problem is.

So I call you, and you start whining about how I ruined your reputation. With whom, I ask? You said, your wife, who happens to be an English teacher, who has been teasing you about the improper grammar. Um, fucktard, maybe it's just her way of demonstrating foreplay, although why she married such an anal asshole as yourself is beyond me. You said that you should have been quoted as, "We HAVE some really fast runners." Only, that's not what you said, and when I quote someone, I have to quote them verbatim.

So you rant, and rave, and demand a correction, so I transfer you to my boss, who frankly, thinks you're nuts. He tells you that if we were to run a correction, it would make you look like a bigger idiot that what you already are. Finally, you cool down a little, my boss hangs up, and we both laugh our asses off at you. And I just killed two hours of my life arguing with you over ONE FUCKING WORD.

Then during this past season, you refuse any interviews with me. Fine. It's fucking cross country. As much as I respect how hard the kids work, no one outside family and friends really gives a shit. And the previous cross country coach thanked me for giving his team coverage, when I could have been anywheres else.

But to cement your assholery, one day, while I'm interviewing the soccer coach, you come from behind us, and drop a snide remark to the other coach, telling him that I'm going to misquote him on purpose. The other coach looks at you like you're nuts.

But that was the last straw with me. See, your AD also witnessed the incident. Not only that, but you had ranted and raved to him about how I had allegedly embarrassed you, and even he thought you were being a fucking diva. AD tells me he'll take care of him.

And so he did. I see your junior high cross country team finished in the middle of pack this year. Maybe you need to recruit some really fast runners.

Sincerely,

HAHAHAHAH

 

Many years ago, on a Saturday night...

Me: Copydesk.
Caller: Now, before I start, don't hang up on me. Hear me out, 'cause the cops won't even bother anymore...