Callin Dr. Love

Originally posted February 4, 2008

The only indication I have of what my caller wants to talk about is the recording before I connect. Tonight it tells me I have a 15 minute credit card call, which is probably the most useless message next to the 15 minute talk line call. What's worse, is that the calls don't cut off after 15 minutes. They credit card ones disconnect automatically after 29 minutes, the talk line after 23.

I connect to my 15 minute credit card call somewhat warily; who knows what's waiting for me on the other side? I say hello and am greeted by the loud, slightly distorted wailing of an electric guitar. I say hello a couple more times to no reply, so I sit and I wait. He had to have been active in order to connect to me, so it's not like his cell phone accidentally dialed me. Hell, it's an easy way for me to make a few bucks, so I go back to my Tetris game while I wait for the song I can't identify to end.

Finally, the last strains of the guitar die out, and I hear a man, also distant and distorted say, “You don't have to talk or anything, I want company to listen to music. I'm here until about midnight, so we're going to listen to some more tunes.”

“Ok,” I reply, uncertainly, “was that you playing the guitar?” I'm aware it was a recording, but I really don't know what else to say.

“Well, you see, I suffer from retrograde amnesia and loss of dexterity in both hands. While I look like Ace Frehley, I am not him, in fact. They tell me that it's the year 2008 AD and I am 46 year years old plus several weeks and a few hours. I thought perhaps I'd written this song, but even though our hair is the same, I'm slightly taller than Ace Frehley.”

“Ok...”

“Now, let's hear this.”

He puts on another song. This one has vocals, but I have no idea what song we're listening to. It's a live album, I know that much. I stop myself from cursing as I mis-stack one of those stupid z-shaped Tetris pieces, even though I don't figure my friend would hear me even if I did curse out loud.

“What do we do when we run out of time?” I ask him as the sound fades.

“I'm not telling you to be quiet, but I do not have the phone up to my ear. We're going to listen to 22 now. Anyone can patch into this, I'm here 'till midnight. All you do is contact your electrical company, they can easily install the PPL and we can continue to listen.”

“Ok...what's your name?” What the fuck is happening?!

“If you let it go too long, the animals may come and eat it. But, really, what the hell? If they want to come eat it, let them have it. I'll still be here until around midnight.”

“I understand.” Yea, I understand that I'm more confused than I've ever been. I feel slightly bad for the guy as well.

“You know, in Philadelphia you can't have sex with 14 year olds anymore. They outlawed it in about 1974 I believe. However, you cannot go back in time. You cannot go back to the time when you could have sex with 14 year olds...”

“Right...”

“Because, for instance, in an attempt to clarify what it is I mean, I was already 19 years old when they changed the drinking age from 18 to 21. One day, it was ok for you to be 18 but the next day, you had to be 21. I didn't have to stop drinking even though the law changed because it had something to do with the constitution. I'm not saying it was in the constitution, but it pertains to legality. Now, one day, you could have sex with 14 year olds, then one day, they had to be 18. You couldn't go back and have sex with the 14 year old the next day, even though yesterday it was legal. You cannot go back through time. And that's why Allentown, Pennsylvania is the porn capital of the world.”

“I didn't know that...” Holy shit! “So, what do...”

“Well, I'm not going to tell you to be quiet, because the phone isn't on my ear. We're going to do 22 now...Anyone can do it if they contact their electrical company.”

“What should...” I'm interrupted by the sound of flipping through television channels. I try to continue speaking but he turns the volume up. Well all right, then.

He settles on the news. I get up to date on what Barack, Hillary and Mitt are up to until the system disconnects us. And here I was worried that the calls at my new company wouldn't be as fucked up as they were at Mindy's.The only indication I have of what my caller wants to talk about is the recording before I connect. Tonight it tells me I have a 15 minute credit card call, which is probably the most useless message next to the 15 minute talk line call. What's worse, is that the calls don't cut off after 15 minutes. They credit card ones disconnect automatically after 29 minutes, the talk line after 23.

I connect to my 15 minute credit card call somewhat warily; who knows what's waiting for me on the other side? I say hello and am greeted by the loud, slightly distorted wailing of an electric guitar. I say hello a couple more times to no reply, so I sit and I wait. He had to have been active in order to connect to me, so it's not like his cell phone accidentally dialed me. Hell, it's an easy way for me to make a few bucks, so I go back to my Tetris game while I wait for the song I can't identify to end.

Finally, the last strains of the guitar die out, and I hear a man, also distant and distorted say, “You don't have to talk or anything, I want company to listen to music. I'm here until about midnight, so we're going to listen to some more tunes.”

“Ok,” I reply, uncertainly, “was that you playing the guitar?” I'm aware it was a recording, but I really don't know what else to say.

“Well, you see, I suffer from retrograde amnesia and loss of dexterity in both hands. While I look like Ace Frehley, I am not him, in fact. They tell me that it's the year 2008 AD and I am 46 year years old plus several weeks and a few hours. I thought perhaps I'd written this song, but even though our hair is the same, I'm slightly taller than Ace Frehley.”

“Ok...”

“Now, let's hear this.”

He puts on another song. This one has vocals, but I have no idea what song we're listening to. It's a live album, I know that much. I stop myself from cursing as I mis-stack one of those stupid z-shaped Tetris pieces, even though I don't figure my friend would hear me even if I did curse out loud.

“What do we do when we run out of time?” I ask him as the sound fades.

“I'm not telling you to be quiet, but I do not have the phone up to my ear. We're going to listen to 22 now. Anyone can patch into this, I'm here 'till midnight. All you do is contact your electrical company, they can easily install the PPL and we can continue to listen.”

“Ok...what's your name?” What the fuck is happening?!

“If you let it go too long, the animals may come and eat it. But, really, what the hell? If they want to come eat it, let them have it. I'll still be here until around midnight.”

“I understand.” Yea, I understand that I'm more confused than I've ever been. I feel slightly bad for the guy as well.

“You know, in Philadelphia you can't have sex with 14 year olds anymore. They outlawed it in about 1974 I believe. However, you cannot go back in time. You cannot go back to the time when you could have sex with 14 year olds...”

“Right...”

“Because, for instance, in an attempt to clarify what it is I mean, I was already 19 years old when they changed the drinking age from 18 to 21. One day, it was ok for you to be 18 but the next day, you had to be 21. I didn't have to stop drinking even though the law changed because it had something to do with the constitution. I'm not saying it was in the constitution, but it pertains to legality. Now, one day, you could have sex with 14 year olds, then one day, they had to be 18. You couldn't go back and have sex with the 14 year old the next day, even though yesterday it was legal. You cannot go back through time. And that's why Allentown, Pennsylvania is the porn capital of the world.”

“I didn't know that...” Holy shit! “So, what do...”

“Well, I'm not going to tell you to be quiet, because the phone isn't on my ear. We're going to do 22 now...Anyone can do it if they contact their electrical company.”

“What should...” I'm interrupted by the sound of flipping through television channels. I try to continue speaking but he turns the volume up. Well all right, then.

He settles on the news. I get up to date on what Barack, Hillary and Mitt are up to until the system disconnects us. And here I was worried that the calls at my new company wouldn't be as fucked up as they were at Mindy's.

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