My dad was a trucker. When he got to his destination, he'd call home person-to-person for himself. Mom would know he had made it safely and tell the operator he wasn't home.
Old style phone culture
- Thread starter Dland
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Well, guess I'll bite.............
One time a friend of mine found out his gf was cheating on him. We all worked at the same restaurant in this mall and were young enough to get out and about, but most of use still lived at home. We were in our late teens and this was in the late 80s. Gf would tell her, very religious, parents that she was spending the night with a friend, and sneak out to see her new bf (who was a thug). Her friend knew this and agreed to be her cover if they became suspicious. They were very strict parents.
So we followed her in my car that night to see where she was going. I parked my car down the road from new bf's house to watch when she would leave. The new bf and some of his goons caught on to us spying on them and more or less ran us off. Fair enough. I didn't want trouble as I just wanted to help a friend out with some closure. So we left, to head back to the mall, split up for the night, and head home. My friend didn't want to believe it but he finally got to the truth and was pissed, depressed, etc. We've all been there I'm sure.
When we got back to the mall, I noticed his (soon to be ex) gf's car at another part of the mall, where it couldn't be seen from the road in case her parents were out looking for her. So I asked my buddy what was her number. He gave it to me, and I called her parents.....at 1am.....pretending to be a security officer for the mall. I told them there was this new mall policy we had about vehicles that would be towed away at the owners' expense if left in the mall parking lot after midnight. I asked them if they owned a silver Oldsmobile and read back the license plate of that car. They told me it was their daughter's. For the next two weeks I told them we had to do courtesy calls to give owners a chance to get their vehicles. After that, no more calls and a tow truck bill. They bought it hook, line, and sinker, and apologized for the trouble. They told me they would leave right then and come and pick up the car. I thanked them and hung up.
The next day at work, gf came in raising absolute immortal hell with my bud and all us. She grilled everyone there, no stone unturned. This girl was pissed and determined to find out who called her parents. She questioned, no interrogated, ALL of us. Nobody caved. Her parents must've really brought the hammer down on her as she was furious. She vowed to find out who called her parents. My buddy broke up with her with a smile on his face and to my knowledge she never found out who called her parents.
lol we must be the same age.
there was a number you could dial, then hang up. It was a test number somehow, and the phone would ring back a minute later. My brother and I were mall rats, so we had fun doing that on all the pay phones, and sitting back and watching people answering them. So dumb I know, but the sources of entertainment back then were limited.
In the 80's...
My younger bro and I would put an old regular phone in an old briefcase. We'd go to the mall, sit in Coney Island restaurant, and casually eat our hot dogs.
Then one of us would open the brief case, dial, and have a long loud phone call on that phone. Curly cord and all. What a kick that was. People around us perplexed. Long before ANY cell phone. Just an act.
Both of us ended up in professional theater, not surprisingly haha.
My younger bro and I would put an old regular phone in an old briefcase. We'd go to the mall, sit in Coney Island restaurant, and casually eat our hot dogs.
Then one of us would open the brief case, dial, and have a long loud phone call on that phone. Curly cord and all. What a kick that was. People around us perplexed. Long before ANY cell phone. Just an act.
Both of us ended up in professional theater, not surprisingly haha.
Agent 99? ... lol, i remember that
"Well, actually"...this was Agent 99...Barbara Feldon....
Maxwell Smart (Don Adams) with his Shoe Phone was Agent 86...
Cheers!
Maxwell Smart (Don Adams) with his Shoe Phone was Agent 86...
Cheers!
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Another way to get high tech and still secure ;
probably works at least as well as the mass marketed and alleged VPNs; my gal has one and it gums up her interwebbing all the time, but she does not believe me on this, as it typical.
probably works at least as well as the mass marketed and alleged VPNs; my gal has one and it gums up her interwebbing all the time, but she does not believe me on this, as it typical.
Let's see: daughter? Check. Abandoned car? Check. Not where it was supposed to be? Check. Today that call would scream "abduction".
If that was my kid...
Pretty much. I never met her parents, but if her dad was a hard ass, I'm sure he sent that new beau of hers packing when she came home.
This is an oldie but goodie:
For all of you who occasionally have a really bad day when you just need to take it out on someone: Don't take that bad day out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't know! 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 Hannifin and could I please speak to Robin Carter?'' Suddenly the phone was slammed down on me! I couldn't believe that anyone could be that rude. I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her. She had transposed the last two digits incorrectly. 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, ''You're a *******!'' and hung up. Next to his phone number I wrote the word ''*******,'' and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills, or had a really bad day, I'd call him up. He'd answer, and I'd yell, ''You're a *******!'' 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 *******. Then one day I had an idea. I dialed his number, then heard his voice say, ''Hello.'' I made up a name. ''Hi. This is the sales office of the Telephone Company and I'm just calling to see if you're familiar with our caller ID program?'' He went, ''No!'' and slammed the phone down. I quickly called him back and said, ''That's because you're a *******!''
The reason I took the time to tell you this story, is to show you how if there's ever anything really bothering you, you can do something about it. Just dial 823-4863. The old lady at the mall really took her time pulling out of the parking space. I didn't think she was ever going to leave. Finally, her car began to move and she started to very slowly back out of the slot. I backed up a little more to give her plenty of room to pull out. “Great," I thought, she's finally leaving. All of a sudden this black Camaro comes flying up the parking isle in the wrong direction and pulls into her space. I started honking my horn and yelling, ''You can't 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 didn't even hear me. I thought to myself, "This guy's a *******. There sure a lot of jackasses 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, I'm at home sitting at my desk. I had just gotten off the phone after calling 823-4863 and yelling, ''You're a *******!'' (It's 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 I'd 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. It's a yellow house and the car's parked right out front.'' I said, ''What's your name?'' ''My name is Don Hansen.'' ''When's a good time to catch you, Don?'' ''I'm home in the evenings.'' ''Listen Don, can I tell you something?'' ''Yes.'' ''Don, you're a *******!'' And I slammed the phone down. After I hung up I added Don Hansen's 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 jackasses to call. Then, after several months of calling the jackasses and hanging up on them, it just wasn't 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 ******* #1. A man answered nicely saying, ''Hello.'' I yelled ''You're a *******!'' but I didn't hang up. The ******* said, ''Are you still there?'' I said, ''Yeah.'' He said, ''Stop calling me.'' I said, ''No.'' He said, ''What's you name, pal?'' I said, ''Don Hansen.'' He said, ''Where do you live?'' ''1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house and my black Camaro's parked out front.'' ''I'm coming over right now, Don. You'd better start saying your prayers.'' ''Yeah, like I'm really scared, *******!'' and I hung up. Then I called ******* #2. He answered, ''Hello.'' I said, ''Hello, *******!'' He said, ''If I ever find out who you are...'' ''You'll what?'' ''I'll kick your butt.'' ''Well, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now *******!'' And I hung up. Then I picked up the phone and called the police. I told them I was at 1802 West 34th Street and that I was going to kill my gay lover as soon as he got home. Another quick call to Channel 13 about the gang war going on down W. 34th Street. After that, I climbed into my car and headed over to 34th Street to watch the whole thing. Glorious watching two Jackasses kicking the crap out of each other in front of six squad cars and a police helicopter was one of the greatest experiences of my life!
For all of you who occasionally have a really bad day when you just need to take it out on someone: Don't take that bad day out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't know! 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 Hannifin and could I please speak to Robin Carter?'' Suddenly the phone was slammed down on me! I couldn't believe that anyone could be that rude. I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her. She had transposed the last two digits incorrectly. 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, ''You're a *******!'' and hung up. Next to his phone number I wrote the word ''*******,'' and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills, or had a really bad day, I'd call him up. He'd answer, and I'd yell, ''You're a *******!'' 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 *******. Then one day I had an idea. I dialed his number, then heard his voice say, ''Hello.'' I made up a name. ''Hi. This is the sales office of the Telephone Company and I'm just calling to see if you're familiar with our caller ID program?'' He went, ''No!'' and slammed the phone down. I quickly called him back and said, ''That's because you're a *******!''
The reason I took the time to tell you this story, is to show you how if there's ever anything really bothering you, you can do something about it. Just dial 823-4863. The old lady at the mall really took her time pulling out of the parking space. I didn't think she was ever going to leave. Finally, her car began to move and she started to very slowly back out of the slot. I backed up a little more to give her plenty of room to pull out. “Great," I thought, she's finally leaving. All of a sudden this black Camaro comes flying up the parking isle in the wrong direction and pulls into her space. I started honking my horn and yelling, ''You can't 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 didn't even hear me. I thought to myself, "This guy's a *******. There sure a lot of jackasses 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, I'm at home sitting at my desk. I had just gotten off the phone after calling 823-4863 and yelling, ''You're a *******!'' (It's 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 I'd 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. It's a yellow house and the car's parked right out front.'' I said, ''What's your name?'' ''My name is Don Hansen.'' ''When's a good time to catch you, Don?'' ''I'm home in the evenings.'' ''Listen Don, can I tell you something?'' ''Yes.'' ''Don, you're a *******!'' And I slammed the phone down. After I hung up I added Don Hansen's 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 jackasses to call. Then, after several months of calling the jackasses and hanging up on them, it just wasn't 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 ******* #1. A man answered nicely saying, ''Hello.'' I yelled ''You're a *******!'' but I didn't hang up. The ******* said, ''Are you still there?'' I said, ''Yeah.'' He said, ''Stop calling me.'' I said, ''No.'' He said, ''What's you name, pal?'' I said, ''Don Hansen.'' He said, ''Where do you live?'' ''1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house and my black Camaro's parked out front.'' ''I'm coming over right now, Don. You'd better start saying your prayers.'' ''Yeah, like I'm really scared, *******!'' and I hung up. Then I called ******* #2. He answered, ''Hello.'' I said, ''Hello, *******!'' He said, ''If I ever find out who you are...'' ''You'll what?'' ''I'll kick your butt.'' ''Well, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now *******!'' And I hung up. Then I picked up the phone and called the police. I told them I was at 1802 West 34th Street and that I was going to kill my gay lover as soon as he got home. Another quick call to Channel 13 about the gang war going on down W. 34th Street. After that, I climbed into my car and headed over to 34th Street to watch the whole thing. Glorious watching two Jackasses kicking the crap out of each other in front of six squad cars and a police helicopter was one of the greatest experiences of my life!
I know who smart was. He was talking to agent 99 on his phone-shoe. jeez.
Or possibly the Chief!
Hahahaha! Nice try tho 
