Anger Management
>
>When you 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'd forgotten
>to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered, saying
>"Hello."
>
>I politely said, "This is Chris. Could I please speak with Robyn
>Carter?"
>
>Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear "Get the right f**in
>number!" and the phone was slammed down on me.
>
>I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down
>Robyn's correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally
>transposed the last two digits.
>
>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 asshole!" and

>hung up. I wrote his number down with the word 'asshole' 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 asshole!"
>
>It always cheered me up.
>
>When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic "asshole
>calling" would have to stop.
>
>So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from Verizon.

>I'm calling to see if you're familiar with our Caller ID Program?"
>
>He yelled "NO!" and slammed down the phone.
>
>I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an asshole!"
>
>One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot.
>Some guy 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'd been waiting
>for that spot, but the idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in

>his back window which included his phone number, so I wrote down the
>number.
>
>A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had
>his number on speed dial) I thought that I'd better call the BMW
>asshole, too I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"
>
>"Yes, it is", he said.
>
>"Can you tell me where I can see it?" I asked.
>
>"Yes, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, in Vaucluse. It's a yellow house, and
>the car's parked right out in 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 asshole!" 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. Then I came up
>with an idea. I called Asshole #1. "Hello."
>
>"You're an asshole!" (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?"
>
>"Asshole, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse, a yellow house, with my
>black Beamer 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, asshole," and hung up.
>
>Then I called Asshole #2. "Hello?" he said.
>
>"Hello, asshole," I said.
>
>He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are..."
>
>"You'll what?" I said.
>
>"I'll kick your ass," he exclaimed.
>
>I answered, "Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right
>now."
>
>Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived
>at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse, and that I was on my way over there to
>kill my gay lover. Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war
>going down in Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse.
>
>I quickly got into my car and headed over to Mowbray. I got there just
>in time to watch two assholes beating the crap out of each other in
>front of six cop cars, an overhead police helicopter and a news crew.
>
>NOW I feel much better.
>
>Anger management really works.
>