Either Way They're Not Calling Back
Recently, when I first moved here, I got my phone service through my cable company. It was digital and cheap. Well, cheaper than I used to pay. But to tell you the truth, I didn't care what phone I got, I just wanted what I grown to love -my sweet sweet cable.
It turns out I should've paid attention to the phone service. I was supposed to have unlimited local and long distance, but sadly that varies day to day. I could call Mexico all I wanted but couldn't call Ohio. Plus if I tried getting online I would get knocked off every 10 minutes.
After a few weeks of trying to deal with it I went to another phone company. Since changing companies I been getting lots of hang-ups. 99% of the hang-ups have just the number '5' on the caller ID, too. Maybe Johnny Bench is calling me.
It's probably the cable company doing it just to piss me off. I haven't given my new number to anybody yet but still I get more calls than I did when I gave everybody my first number. It turns out I'm more popular being anonymous.
So over the weekend, I gave my new number to all my friends and family, determined to at least get my first real home phone call on my new number. Everyone usually calls the cell number. It's great for the ego when you get more wrong number calls than actual calls for you.
Monday I was laying back, relaxing, reading the paper when the phone rang. Of course, I was in the TV room (did I mentioned I love cable) where we have no phone. I said to myself,"Was that the phone?" I think I was even smiling when I said it. I hear it ring again and like Carl Lewis, I show my Olympic speed running to the phone in the kitchen. I look at the caller ID and think to myself, "Blocked call. Wooohoo! It's NOT a FIVE."
I'm excited and tired already from the short burst of energy I used making the mad dash to what is just a damn phone call. So I tell myself to calm down and try to be like James Bond and answer real suave-like. But apparently being out of breath and trying to be suave didn't work, because after giving my coolest "hello", the guy on the other line said, "Hi, Ma'am, are you the lady of the house?"
I'm thinking to myself, "Ma'am?? Lady??" as I catch my breath I tell him, "No, she's not here." I, of course, wanted to add a few choice words but decided against it. I should have though when he asked his next question, "Are you her daughter or the babysitter?"
It was then I decided to play along. In the highest voice I could muster I answered, "I'm the babysitter."
He said, "How old are you?"
I answered, "18"
He said, "My name is Ernest and I'm from Playtex. Would you minding taking part of a survey and answering a few questions?"
Still playing along, I answered, "Okay I guess."
He said, "Fantastic. First, what's your name?"
"Oh-oh", I say to myself, "Name?" Looking around I see a movie magazine with Jessica Simpson on it, so I answer him, "Jessica"
"Very nice name, Jessica. Okay, let's start, do you wear playtex bras?'
"No, I'm sorry I don't."
"That's okay, Jessica, what bras do you wear?"
"I wear Victoria's Secret bras"
"Mmm nice. Very nice, Jessica. What is your bra size?
"Oh-oh", I say to myself again. I tell him, "I don't know."
He tells me, "Jessica, you don't know? Why?"
"Well, my mother buys all my bras."
"Jessica, are you wearing a bra now?"
"Yes, of course I am, sir"
"Call me Ernest, Jessica. Can you please take off your bra and see the size? ... It's okay, Jessica, I really need to know your bra size, so I can send you free Playtex merchandise."
I tell him, "Okay, Ernest, can you hold on a sec?"
So I put the phone down and act like I'm really taking a bra off. Well since I came this far I might as well give my made-up babysitter a healthy pair of breasts.
I get back on the phone and tell him, "It has the number 40 followed by 2 'D' letters."
"Wow, Jessica, you are a big girl"
"I'm no big girl, Ernest"
"I'm sorry, Jessica. I'm not saying you're fat. How tall are you?"
"I'm short , I'm 4'11". "
"And how much do you weigh, Jessica?"
"Almost 110 pounds"
"I bet you're a real cutie, Jessica, did you put your bra back on?"
"No, Ernest"
"Damn, I bet you look so hot right now, Jessica"
"Thank you, Ernest"
"Can I tell you a secret, Jessica?"
"Sure, Ernest"
"Jessica baby, I'm not really from Playtex , and I'm in my basement, and I'm stroking my (penis) for you."
Going back to my regular voice I answer back to him, "Really? I'm stroking mine, too."
He hung up on me. I got a feeling he's not calling back. It may have been wrong in oh-so-many ways but he deserved it.
With apologies to Oscar Wilde, he may have been Ernest but he wasn't earnest.
So if any JU women out there get a call from a man called Ernest, claiming he's from Playtex, just tell him 'Jessica' said hi.
"