Drunk dialling
Being 6 hours in front of my friends on the East Coast. I get strange phone calls from drunk people between 6 AM and 8 AM. Just so you understand: Caller=CROCKED and listener=BARELY AWAKE. This yields some funny results. Here's a sampling of some exchanges.
#1:
Caller: Sssh, I think they're doing it in my bathroom.
Listener: Wait, how can they hear ME?!
#2:
Caller: Yeah, how come there's so many rules about touching girls?
Listener: Are you talking about being married, or are you talking about rape?
#3:
Caller: So, yeah, we were totally trying to do it in her bathroom, but we could hear her laughing directly outside the door.
Listener: Maybe that was me...
#4 and 5:
Caller: HEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYY, but listen...
Listener: (At this point, I put the phone down and start making the biggest pot of Turkish coffee Slovenia has ever seen.)
#6:
Listener: So, what's that cat doing now?!
Caller: He sneezes a lot. That takes some getting used to.
Josh called me once when I was fairly lit up. This exchange was pretty good long-distance drunk dialling.
Me: Listen. I need to get a beer. Talk to my friend.
Josh: OK (Talks to girl next to me for 20 minutes)
Me: OK, I'm back. Hey, that girl you were just talking to? What's her name?
Josh: I have no idea.
Me: Neither do I. Talk to her again.
Josh: Put her on.
This shit is so much cooler than "Hi, it's me, your pussy-whipped ex-boyfriend on his fifth boilermaker. And I just wanted you to know that I think we really have a chance. And I hope that you think that too. And I gonna be blah blah blah."
I need to get a tape recorder hooked up to my cell.
#1:
Caller: Sssh, I think they're doing it in my bathroom.
Listener: Wait, how can they hear ME?!
#2:
Caller: Yeah, how come there's so many rules about touching girls?
Listener: Are you talking about being married, or are you talking about rape?
#3:
Caller: So, yeah, we were totally trying to do it in her bathroom, but we could hear her laughing directly outside the door.
Listener: Maybe that was me...
#4 and 5:
Caller: HEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYY, but listen...
Listener: (At this point, I put the phone down and start making the biggest pot of Turkish coffee Slovenia has ever seen.)
#6:
Listener: So, what's that cat doing now?!
Caller: He sneezes a lot. That takes some getting used to.
Josh called me once when I was fairly lit up. This exchange was pretty good long-distance drunk dialling.
Me: Listen. I need to get a beer. Talk to my friend.
Josh: OK (Talks to girl next to me for 20 minutes)
Me: OK, I'm back. Hey, that girl you were just talking to? What's her name?
Josh: I have no idea.
Me: Neither do I. Talk to her again.
Josh: Put her on.
This shit is so much cooler than "Hi, it's me, your pussy-whipped ex-boyfriend on his fifth boilermaker. And I just wanted you to know that I think we really have a chance. And I hope that you think that too. And I gonna be blah blah blah."
I need to get a tape recorder hooked up to my cell.
posted by J Wilson at Friday, September 23, 2005
1 Comments:
I need to create a new blogger identity: the parasite. Why start your own blog when you can graft yours onto someone else's by way of the comments? It's not drunk dialing in a literal sense, but it constitutes a kind of intoxicated wiring, speech, writing. I used to procrastinate by drinking every night. Now I watch movies instead.
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