Perverted Asshat on the Telephone

Let me start by saying that I am a native of both Dublin and London. I am used to the leers and hoots of random perverted jackasses from pubs as they glug beer and watch the footie game on the television. But since I moved to New York City in July 2005, at the age of seventeen, I can honestly say I’ve encountered more lewd fuckwits in one thirteen mile long city in one year than you can shake a stick at.

My favourite has to be the asshole who phoned me the other day. I do not have caller ID (but you can be damn sure I’m having it installed ASAP, after this incident). Our conversation goes a bit like this:

*phone rings*
Me: Hello?
*panting and crashing from other end*
Me: Hello?
Random fuckwit: Hey, sexy.
Me: Who is this?
Random fuckwit: Your stallion. Rawr (I wish I could say I was joking)
Me: Stallions don’t rawr. Who are you, and why are you phoning me?
Random fuckwit: *in ridiculous, downright embarassing attempt of a proper English accent: Are you British, mate?
Me: Yes, *mate*, and I’m about to hang up. Bye now.
Random fuckwit: Do you mind if I jack off?
Me: Be my guest. *slam phone down*

As much as I love being accosted by some asshat on the phone, I think I’d be an idiot if I didn’t share this with the rest of the world. Enjoy, ladies, and keep yourselves safe. And Mr. Fuckwit, wherever you are: get a new hobby.

Submitted by Rory

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