My Homeboys Tried To Warn Me...

So, I work a lot of odd hours, including some overnights. Usually this is fine with me - a nice, uneventful shift, no traffic on the way in, no co-workers to hassle me about anything, etc.

That is, up until about a year ago.

Y'see, I work for a company that provides video & data services. At some point, we added a new state-of-the art videoconferencing center, and someone in management decided we needed a toll-free number for clients to call in on. Okay, that makes sense. The problems started when another company (who I won't promote here) misprinted their toll-free number on their catalog - they printed our number (and continue to print our number after many, many months). This company also provides a certain form of "video services" - although their products are of a much less, uh, savory nature than ours. Apparently they specialize in videos featuring African-American women, although it's a bit more specific than that. They specialize in videos featuring African-American women who are gifted in the, um, posterior region.


*Ahem*.


Don't get me wrong, I dig on a ghetto onion as much as the next red-blooded American male. And I'm sure all the actresses in these videos are lovely girls who are just earning money for grad school. But, as you can imagine, you have some pretty interesting conversations when someone calls at 4AM looking for their porn fix, and you have to tell them they have a wrong number. I've had everything from squeaky-voiced teenagers telling me "It's okay dude, you can sell to me, I'm not the cops!" to people cursing me out, to people who just plain refused to believe that I'm not sitting in a giant warehouse full of porno. But last night, I got a great one from a young woman:
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Me: "Good evening, (company name that doesn't sound remotely like a porn distributor)

Caller: "Yeah, I'm looking at this catalog you sent me.."

Me: "You have the wrong number, ma'am. The video company printed the wrong number on their catalog." (I've learned from experience to cut people off ASAP, before they say something embarrassing for us both.)

Caller: "Yeah, well, lemme ask you sumthin': How these girls get their booties so BIG!?"

Me: "...uh..."

Caller: "I mean, I don't see HOW it can natural!"

Me: "...I dunno..."

Caller: "I found a place up in New York City that says they can do it for eight hunnerd dollas, but I don't know how they do it!"

Me: "Um... implants, maybe?"

Caller: (laughs) "You a trip! I dunno dog, I'm afraid it wouldn't be healthy, y'know?"

Me: "I guess it wouldn't."

Caller: "So, what's the right number?"

Me: "I don't know - I think if you go to their website it has the right number." (info gleaned from previous callers)

Caller: "Ah, man, can you get on the website and look it up for me? Hook me up, dog!"

Me: I'm at work - I can't look up adult websites, I'd get fired."

Caller: "A'ight dog, I don't want you to get fired - you get back to work!" (laughs)

Me: "Allright, ma'am. Goodnight."
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So, how did your phone conversations at work go yesterday?

The first eleven things that turned up when I told the iPod to play 4228 songs randomly*:

Goodnight L.A. - Counting Crows
I like To Score - Moby
I'm Looking Through You - The Beatles
My Love For You (Has Turned To Hate) - Hank Williams
Day Dream - Smashing Pumpkins
Fucked - Ministry
Rhyme & Reason - Dave Matthews Band
The River - Bruce Springsteen
Big Rock Candy Mountain - Harry McClintock
A Million Miles Away - The Plimsouls
You Really Got Me - The Kinks

*The idea for this post was blatantly stolen from Neil Gaiman.