I'm serious. Where the bad people go, there go I. I am evil.
I got a crank call on my cell phone. Some teenage girl was panting and moaning into my ear. Gee, how...special.
I should have just hung up. Or maybe said something “mother-ish” like, “Is that the mouth you kiss your mother with?” or “I know your mother, and when I tell her…”
But oooooooooooooooooooooooooooh no. My sense of humor ran away with me again. Pitching my voice as low and husky as I could, I cooed into the phone: "What're you wearing?"
The panting and moaning stopped abruptly. I could still hear her stunned breathing, so I knew she hadn't just hung up. "What're you wearing?" I asked again, still with the husky voice.
"I like thongs myself...what are you, a size 6? 8? What're you wearing?"
Another pause, and then a little squeak of "ohmigawd!" followed by a dead line.
Yeah, I'd say she was maybe fourteen, fifteen - and a Class A1 rookie at the crank call thing.
And I am SO going to hell.
Because I told a lie. I hate thongs. They run up my…well, they run up.
The Shoemaker’s Children
21 hours ago