|The Two Jerks
Here's a funny story that one of my crazy friends sent me.
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 couldnít believe that anyone could be that rude. I tracked down Robinís 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 "Youíre 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, Iíd call him up. Heíd answer, and then Iíd yell, ĎYouíre 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 Iím just calling to see if youíre familiar with our caller ID program?"
He went, "No!" and slammed the phone down.
I quickly called him back and said, "Thatís because youíre a jerk!"
And the reason I took the time to tell you this story, is to show you how if thereís ever anything really bothering you, you can do something about it. Just dial 722-4822.
The old lady at the mall really took her time pulling out of the parking space. I didnít 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, sheís 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 canít 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 didnít even hear me.
I thought to myself, this guyís a jerk, thereís 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, Iím at home sitting at my desk. I had just gotten off the phone after calling 722-4822 and yelling, "Youíre a jerk!" (Itís 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 Iíd 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. Itís a yellow house and the carís parked right out front.
I said, "Whatís your name?"
"My name is Don Hansen."
"Whenís a good time to catch you, Don?"
"Iím home in the evenings."
"Listen Don, can I tell you something?"
"Don, youíre a jerk!" And I slammed the phone down. After I hung up I added Don Hansenís 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 wasnít 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 "Youíre a jerk!" But I didnít hang up.
The jerk said, "Are you still there?"
I said, "Yeah.."
He said, "Stop calling me."
I said, "No."
He said, "Whatís your name, Pal?"
I said, "Don Hansen."
"Where do you live?"
"1802 West 34th Street. Itís a yellow house and my black Camaroís parked out front."
"Iím coming over right now, Don. Youíd better start saying your prayers."
"Yeah, like Iím 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..."
"Iíll kick your butt."
"Well, hereís your chance. Iím 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 #2ís 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!"
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