When it's not safe to answer the phone

In our younger, more foolish days, Heather #1 and I had a favorite past time – making prank phone calls.

These were the days before *69 and caller ID, or as I like to call them, the truly awesome days. We didn't prank boys we liked, well, not much. Mostly, we made up numbers, called them, and then fucked with whoever had the misfortune of being on the receiving end.

We had some favorites that we would do over and over. We would call and get what sounded like a mom, write down the number and hang up. When we had two mom numbers, we would call each one and do this, usually very late at night when we were hopped up on cola and cookies.

Mom: Hello?

Us: Mom?

Mom: I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number.

Us: Oh no! This was my last quarter! [Cue crying]

Mom: Are you okay?

Us: No. I'm stranded in downtown Schenectady with no money, and I need to be picked up. That was my last quarter. Can you call my mom and ask her to come pick me up?

Mom: Um, okay. What's the number?

So we'd give her the number of the other mom-type, then ask the time. When she told us the time, we'd say our mom was on her way home from work, and could she wait ten minutes to call? Then, we'd call the other mom-type and do the exact same thing. The downside of this was that we never got to witness the interaction. The upside? We could imagine it.

Our other favorite was less elaborate and much more funny (to us, anyway). We'd call a random number and when someone answered, we'd hold the boom box up to the receiver for a minute or two and then say, "Thank you for calling AT&T. How may I help you?" this confused people. Sometimes we'd say, "Thank you for calling AT&T. Please hold." And then play the music again. One woman asked every single member of her very large family who had called AT&T. One of those unfortunate family members was a teenaged girl.

I'm not proud of this, and it probably makes me a bad person, but once Heather #1 and I discovered this girl, all other prank targets ceased to exist. Even more so once we discovered her name. We called her for years. Every time we had a sleep over, we called her. We called her from pay phones in the mall. We called her while we were on vacation at the Jersey shore. Once she thought I was one of her friends, and talked to me for a few minutes. Sometimes we played music. Sometimes we told her to stay away from our boyfriend. Sometimes we told her we'd heard something about her at school. Sometimes we called to wish her a Happy Birthday. Sometimes we sang.

Thinking back, we probably scarred this poor girl for life. She probably went insane trying to figure out who we were, or why we were terrorizing her. And karma's a real bitch, too, because one night, Mrs. F, Heather #1 and I went over to Steve Nadeau's house while his parents were away. Mrs. F and Heather #1 both told their parents they were going to be at my house. A girl called Mrs. F's mother and told her where we were.

We never found out who made the call. And everyone got grounded, even though all we did at Steve Nadeau's house was eat pizza, watch cartoons and play with Willard, his pet rat.