Yesterday, as I was selling games to console and PC owners everywhere, some douchebag thought it would be a great idea to steal my cell phone. That's right, kiddies, my $200 N-Gage Gaming Deck / Cell phone is gone to someone else's pocket. Here's the best part: When I called my phone to find out where it was, the idiot actually answered it. Here, for your enjoyment, is our conversation:
??: Hello?
Me: Who is this?
??: Who is THIS?
Me: I'm the person whose phone you have.
??: Oh. Well, I just bought this phone.
Me: Ok. Well, that's MY phone you're holding.
??: Well, d'ya want to buy it back from me?
Me: No, I don't want to buy it back from you, I want my **Expletive Deleted** phone!
??: Sorry, man. Nice knowing you.
Me: Hello? What the **Expletive Deleted** is wrong with these **Expletive Deleted** idiots nowadays? I mean, **Expletive Deleted**, Who comes into my **Expletive Deleted** place of work and steals my **Expletive Deleted** phone? That's my mother **Expletive Deleted** phone? What **Expletive Deleted** good does it do your **Expletive Deleted** **Expletive Deleted**? I have got a half a mind to sit right **Expletive Deleted** here and call this **Expletive Deleted** all night until he picks up my **Expletive Deleted** phone again! WHat a **Expletive Deleted****Expletive Deleted****Expletive Deleted**.
Yeah... not happy. So, after thirty minutes (literally) of calling my phone, hanging up, calling again, I decide to call the police. The police come, and Officer Friendly tells me not to hold out much hope for my cellular sweetheart's return. Here's the thing, though: The phone, I don't really care all that much about. It's just a thing. It can be replaced. ALL my numbers are now gone. People I've met, old friends of mine, people from out-of-state, EVERYONE I had stored in my phone so I didn't have to have stored in my head are now at the mercy of some idiot who thought he could get a free phone. (Which, by the way, no longer works, so if you're out there, asswipe, you just stole yourself the coolest looking paperweight your ghetto ass will ever own. Congrats.)
So, here's what I need from all of you out there. Call my phone. Right now. If you know me, then you know my number. But I don't know yours anymore. Please call me so I can have your number again.
Oh, and if anyone out there is wondering if I really swear like that when I get angry... let's just say that Q-Bert would blush if he heard me rant.
4 comments:
That's a bitch. You already got my number.
Find this guy. Find him and split him in half like a squash. (I was gonna say gut him like a fish, but you shouldn't gut fish. Fish don't steal phones.)
OK...bedtime.
Remember, Jesus loves fish too. Yeah I know he ate them, but that was two thousand years ago. We've moved passed that now...well, at least I have.
apparently squash are known for stealing phones.....?
Sometimes in life, we have to learn that J makes comments that even he doesn't really understand. Laugh at them politely, pat him on the head, and move on with your life. Slightly dumber for having heard it, to be sure... but also more happy, because someone else doesn't make sense, either.
explanation...
I was cooking squash at the time. What do you want from me?
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