 Anger Mangagement
This is what I do when I'm having a bad day:
For all of you who occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need
to take it out on someone--don't take it out on someone you know, take it
out on someone you don't know.
I was sitting at my desk, when I remembered a phone call I had forgotten
to make. I found the number, and dialed it. A man answered saying, "Hello?"
I politely said, "This is Fred Hanifin, could I please speak with Robin
Carter?"
Suddenly, the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that
anyone could be so rude. I tracked down Robin's correct number, and called
her. (I had transposed the last two digits of her phone number).
After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again.
When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled, "You're an XXXXXXX!" and I
hung up. I wrote his number down, with the word 'XXXXXXX' next to it, 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 and yell, "You're an XXXXXXX!" It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic 'XXXXXXX'
calling would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is
John
Smith from the Telephone Company. I'm just calling to see if you're familiar
with the caller ID program?" He yelled, "NO!" and slammed the phone
down. I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an XXXXXXX!"
So, one day I was at the grocery-store, getting ready to pull into a parking
spot. Some kid in a black BMW cut me off, and pulled into the spot I had
patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I had been waiting for
the spot. The idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his car
window, so I wrote down his number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first XXXXXXX (I had his
number on speed dial), I thought I had better call the BMW XXXXXXX, too.
I dialed and someone said, "Hello?" I said, "Is this the man with the
black BMW 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."
"What's your name?" I asked.
"My name is Don Hansen," he said.
"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"
"I'm home every evening after five."
"Listen, Don, can I tell you something?"
"Yes?"
"Don, you're an XXXXXXX!" Then I hung up, and added his number to my
speed dial, too. Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call. But
after several months of calling them, it wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be.
So, I came up with an idea: I called XXXXXXX #1.
"Hello"
"You're an XXXXXXX!" (but I didn't hang up.)
"Are you still there?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Stop calling me," he screamed
"Make me," I said.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"My name is Don Hansen."
"Yeah? Where do you live?"
"XXXXXXX, I live at 1802 West 34th Street, a yellow house with my black
Beemer parked in front."
He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start
saying your prayers."
I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, XXXXXXX."
Then I called XXXXXXX # 2:
"Hello?" he said.
"Hello XXXXXXX," I said.
He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are..."
"You'll what?" I said.
"I'll kick your XXX," he exclaimed.
I answered, "Well, XXXXXXX, here's your chance. I'm coming over right
now."
Then, I hung up, and immediately called the police, saying that I lived
at 1802 West 34th Street, and I was on my way over there to kill my gay
lover.
Then, I called Channel 13 news about the gang war going down on West
34th Street.
I quickly got into my car and headed over to 34th St. There, I saw two
assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six squad cars,
a police helicopter, and a TV news crew.
Now, I feel better...
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03-26-03 08:50 PM
He smiled and let out a little laugh 