Several years back I worked for a local jewelry designer and part of the daily job included answering the phones. My boyfriend at the time was not above prank calling me at work. One instance in particular the phone rang and I answered with the
usual greeting, "Good afternoon [name of business] this is Becky how may I help you?"
"Hi, Becky" a male voice answers, "I was wondering if your company is doing any hiring?"
"I don't believe we are, but we are always
accepting applications."
"Okay, that's great I might do that. One question though.... I am a registered sex offender, is that a problem?"
My eyes widened and my face turned bright red. Within a second my mind began to race. A sex offender?!
Does that mean he was caught peeing in public, or does he fondle strangers on public buses? Unfortunately, being a sex offender could mean several different things. I worked with primarily women at the time so I couldn't imagine that anyone would want
to risk the possibility that this guy might be looking for an opportunity to lock one of us in the coat closet or something.
How to proceed? What do I say? Before I could even gather a clear thought I blurted out, "Probably." I saw my manager
out of the corner of my eye and thought I need to hand this call over to him. I continued quickly with, "Let me hand you over to my manager."
As I scrambled for the Hold button the voice on the other end shouted, "Babe, wait! It's me!" The
familiar voice, and thunderous laughter, of my boyfriend was now clear to me, and my nerves turned to rage.
"You @$$hole!" I shouted as I laid my head down on the counter. Once the fury subsided I also began to laugh, because it was indeed a
really good prank.
A few months later I answered another call at work. "Good afternoon... this is Becky how may I help you?"
Another male voice responded, "Are your toes painted?"
I thought that was a very
odd question to ask a jewelry sales associate. The voice didn't sound familiar, but given the ridiculous antics that my boyfriend found amusing I stayed on the line.
"Yes?" I answered feeling unsure that I should be entertaining this question, but
I have discovered that I am trusting to a fault.
"What color are they?"
"Pink?" Again I was questioning myself. This is so bizarre. I shouldn't be answering this question.
"Can I lick them?" Yikes! I slammed the phone
down. My pervert alert went off like crazy. I felt pretty sure that this was not my boyfriend and if it was, I might have to reevaluate the relationship, based on what he found to be funny.
The calls continued. Every so often I
would get a phone call with a perverse line of questioning like that, or just heavy breathing. My coworker, Elizabeth, who just happens to be a blond bombshell, also received the same calls. When we would yell at the offender, "Who is this?!" or "Stop
calling!" He would hang up and call again a few days later.
At one point we did have the local police force look into it, but nothing came from our efforts.
I guess this is what I get for having beautifully pedicured
feet.