I don’t normally go in for this kind of thing, you know making random, word only comments and posting them, but . . . ha! this time I’ll make an exception because I’ve just had the most bizarre experience I think I’ve ever had whilst wearing socks. But first, a couple of bits of insider information on my communications security: 1/ The phone I have throws up the incoming number and, where it’s suspicious i.e. diverted from abroad through one of those UK-based Skype numbers, shows a rather fetching red alert. 2/ No-one at all has this number, no-one other than 3 sisters, 1 brother, 5 children and 2 sets of parents and every last one of them has their numbers zapped into ur phone system’s memory. 3/ Numbers starting 087 or 089 (marketing numbers) are automatically disconnected by BT. 4/ I never answer the phone anyway unless I want to talk to the person on the other end (I always know who it is due to No. 1) unless . . . I want to have some fun.
Recently the system has reported a few suspicious looking inward numbers.
The phone rings and I see it’s one of them and decide to have some fun (it’s Friday).
Hello (I say, all polite and charming)
This is Ken from Windows, are you in front of your computer right now. (He’s the only Ken I’ve ever heard with a thick Indian or Pakistani accent.)
Why hello Ken, how are you today. Did you manage to sort out our little problem? (Do you see what I did there?)
You know, the problem. I can’t just say it over the phone can I . . . anyone could be listening.
Why you download junk? (Obviously reading the script, playing the hard man!)
Ken, you know why I’ve been downloading junk. It’s funny you should call it junk.
Why you download junk? Is very bad for computer and our company.
Oh Ken can you see everything I’ve downloaded?
Yes, we can see everything. It’s very good job I catch it now, before anyone sees. (Straight into my lap!)
Oh Ken, thank you. You must be very relieved no-one saw.
It’s very good job I not police and only Windows man.
It is, it is Ken! People just wouldn’t understand.
No they wouldn’t. I want you stop wasting time and do this . . .
One thing Ken, before we start, it was you wasn’t it, Ken.
What you mean, it was me?
You, you know, in the photographs.
I’m looking at them now Ken so you must be able to see them your end, right.
Oh yes . . . (but I sense his confusion and curiosity)
There you are, you with that lovely little . . . donkey.
The donkey you were shagging. It was you wasn’t it. Tell me it was you.
Yes. Please tell me it was you and I’ll do anything you want.
It was me shagging donkey.
Say it again Ken, just for me. Say – I shagged the donkey.
I shagged the donkey.
Louder Ken, so I can hear and I’ll do anything you want. Anything.
I shagged the donkey!
(Throughout our weird and wonderful conversation there was the sound of general office hubbub burbling away in the background except suddenly there was complete silence when Ken, bless him, shouted “I shagged the donkey!”)
I could hardly breathe as I clicked the phone off. I half expected him to call back . . .