Now usually, these calls are easily handled by doing a variation of the following:
|You can't trust those tricky refrigerators. CREDIT.|
Sauce: "It's a Hooterific day at Hooters Missoula! This is Sauce. How can I help you?!" (Yes, I actually answer the phone like that. Even worse, they don't make me do it that way. I made it up.)
Little Shit: "Are boobies on the menu?"
Sauce: "Well they are if you count chickens."
Little Shit: laughing
Sauce: "So is your mom home?"
Little Shit: "No way. I'm twenty. No mom here."
Sauce: "Uh huh. Well I see here on my caller ID that your number is (123) 555-5555. I'll just check back with her later."
Little Shit: "Um oh. I'm really, really sorry. Don't tell my mom."
I never tell any moms. It's certainly amazing how reading back a phone number will scare the crap out of a prepubescent boy. But sometimes your callers aren't little boys. Sometimes - though far less often thankfully - prank callers are legitimate, 100% creeps. These are harder to deal with because they know how to do things like block their numbers. Which is beyond creepy to begin with.
On Sunday we had one of our worst adult callers ever. Yes, in two and half years of being a Hooters Girl I have never experienced anything so disturbing from a caller. It began with a phone call picked up by our female manager. Unfortunately, I don't know the exact nature of this call because apparently it was so vulgar that she wouldn't tell us any of the specifics beyond it being the most inappropriate thing she'd ever heard.
Naturally, my manager promptly hung up and thought the whole thing over with. Just another creep doing what creeps do. But it wasn't the end. Nearly immediately after being hung up on, our creeper called back. This time, Ariel - who was bartending - answered the phone and was greeted by the sounds of a man pleasuring himself. She hung up the phone nearly as quickly as she'd picked up. He called back just as quickly.
Sauce: "It's a Hooterific day at Hooters Missoula! This is Sauce. How can I help you?!"
I was greeted by the same sounds and immediately noted that this didn't seem like a joke. This man was either the best actor ever or he really was jerking off on the other end of the line. I said the only thing that immediately came to mind.
|What am I wearing? Well pearls of course!|
Sauce: "You know, I think they may be able to better handle you if you call a strip club."
Sorry to all you strip clubs out there. I know you probably don't want his calls either, but it was all I could think of with al that breathing and grunting going on in my ear. But what I said didn't dissuade him. He kept calling. And calling. And calling.
So we took the phone off the hook, but then he'd simply be kicked over to the other line. We just let it ring, but it would just keep ringing for minutes at a time. Even one of our male regulars answered the phone.
Regular: "Did you know you're getting off to a guy right now? You're a sick f@#*!. You'd better stop calling here."
Nothing would work. He literally called for nearly an hour and all we could do was pick the phone up out of the cradle and set it right back down again. Finally, we just called the police. Naturally they took their sweet time getting there and when they finally showed up the creep had handled his shit and stopped calling.
Not that they could do anything with a "Private" number anyway. Except subpoena our phone company for his number. Which will happen if he calls back. Which I have a feeling he will. I'll be working on my witty remarks for when that happens. Creep.