Unwelcome callers
I was fast asleep this morning when the doorbell rang.
Maybe I should point out that there was someone at the door ringing the door bell. It doesnât ring itself.
Anyhows I dragged myself out of a very deep sleep and decided to answer it. It could be important? I had a quick glance around, but no dressing gown. I decided to play The Lottery. The Lottery is where I answer the door bollok naked in the hopes of winning the jackpot of either finding a gorgeous woman or a pair of God Botherers.
Unfortunately it was only the bloke wanting to read the meter.
He is well used to my little ways and didnât turn a hair at this sight of a fine specimen of manhood. Heâs a cheerful bloke and chatted away while he peered at the dials. I donât do cheerful if I have been dragged out of a deep sleep so I grunted a couple of times and let him do his job.
After he left, there wasnât much point in going back to bed, so I got dressed and made my morning cuppa.
The phone rang.
Maybe I should point out that the phone didnât ring itselfâ¦. but you know all that bit.
Anyhows I answered it. It was one of those blokes wanting to fix my PC. I decided to play along.
He explained how he was from such-and-such company and that he was phoning people to fix a virus problem caused by some mythical web site. He asked if my computer was switched on. I said it was. He asked which version of Windows I was using. I said Version 13. That stumped him. He asked if I was sure. I said I was and it was version 13, commonly known as Maya. This stumped him even more.
Suddenly I had a moment of crystal clarity. Maybe it was the mug of tea kicking in, or maybe it was my first pipe of the day knocking my brain into gear, but I suddenly realised there were a lot more interesting things to do in life that wind up some fucking Pakistani. I told him that Maya is a fucking Linux system and that if he didnât fuck off I would ram his fucking Windows up his fucking arse.
He hung up.
The place is back to its normal peace and quiet. There is a pigeon softly cooing in a tree outside and there is the distant sound of a tractor.
Peace, as it should be.
Why canât people fucking leave me alone?
I love when the Pakis phone me.
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I ask the girls if they have panties on and I ask the chaps the same.
You should have told the electric company guy that you were having trouble with shorts, see what he’d say!
Peering at your dials was he? Sounds a real perv.
Dave – Heh! Could be interesting if they turn out to be a closet pervert? Hours of fun.
Not Green – For fuck’s sake, I was only just barely [*cough*] awake. Too early in the day for bad puns….
tt – He used a torch and all.
The scam calls are usually from a number in Djibouti – +253 820308. I keep the number in the phone so as to ask them to call back on numbers like the premium rate line that carries the obituaries for the local radio station – it’s an easy number to remember.
Tues. I guess nobody rang the doorbell and awoke you this morning.
I love asking them to wait while I turn on the computer. Â Then off I go and do what I had planned to do in the first place. Â Don’t know how long they wait but who cares.