Four days ago I got a phone call. From Libya (or so my call display informed me). Overstricken with curiosity, I answered the phone to say, "uh, hello?" The person on the other end replied with "hello". In all my excitement, I replied with "hello." He responded, "hello." By now the spell was just starting to wear off, and I managed to ask, "Can I help you?". He responded, "hello", and in a spirit absolutely opposite to the meaning of that word, he hung up. I should mention that I think he was saying "hello", because he was slightly muffled and seemed to have an accent.
Over the next few days, I was called about twenty times between two different Libyan numbers. I didn't manage to answer, because I was either away from my phone or it was between 5-3am (when I decidedly had other things I'd rather be doing, or rather, not doing). Actually, at one point I had become determined to answer one of those early morning calls and went to bed with the ringer turned up. When the inevitable call came, between the second ring and me just grabbing my phone, the caller hung up. Odd.
Nevertheless, with my sense of curiosity piqued I kept a sharp eye on my phone, and managed to pick up yesterday afternoon while at work. Not only did I manage to say the obligatory "hello", but I also managed a "this is Chris speaking." What followed was a mix of Arabian-sounding dialogue and polite and apologetic Canadian replies such as, "sorry, I only speak English" and "you might have the wrong number". We went back and forth 3-4 times, with him replying in a decidedly un-English language. Eventually hung up. Odd, indeed.
Then early this afternoon I got call #24 (this had all started four days ago). Before I answered I already had Google up. I said hello, he said something foreign, I said I only spoke English, he said something foreign and there was a bit of shuffling and another voice in the background. Just as I had finished typing in "how to say i don't speak arabic in arabic" into the search box with one hand, a deep accented voice came on asking if he could speak with Salab. I informed him that I thought he had the wrong number. He assured me that, no, he'd spoken with Salab two days ago on the same number he was calling now. As is tradition in Canuck-ese culture, I apologized and told him that I don't know Salab.
"Well f*ck you, you f*cking motherf*cker. Tell that Salab motherf*cker that he's f*cked. F*ck you and f*ck him, you motherf*cking motherf*ckers. F*ck you." Click.
At this point I found myself wondering if I had perhaps inadvertently filled a shoddy bomb casing with used pinball machine parts, and instead used the plutonium to power my Porsche 944 (because, Lord knows, the parts aren't expensive enough already).
Needless to say, his reaction to me not knowing and/or being Salab caught me off guard. That's not to mention that it felt like speaking with a twelve year old who only knows one-and-a-half swear words and discovered he can spout them without any restraint to strangers on the telephone.
I told my coworkers of what just happened, and they said I should phone my carrier to make sure my number isn't somehow being used in a scam and to file a police report in case I might get caught up in some weird gang business. That left me feeling a bit spooked.
My carrier said to just block the number and let them know if the calls persist. After rolling their eyes so hard I could hear it through the phone, the police agent told me that there's nothing they can do unless a specific threat was made, and that I should just block the number.
I haven't blocked the number yet... I suspect there won't be any more calls, and I won't lie. I'm a leetle beet curious to know what all this is about. If there are more calls, yeah, I'll block it. I'll probably find out in the morning.
It's all a bit out of left field. But here it is, written-down and date stamped. I have the suspicion that neither the police or my carrier made any sort of official note/record of what I told them, so even though I don't think much will happen, it can't hurt to jot it down just in case.
And to the NSA/CSA/FBI/CIA/whoever is crawling the interwebs these days looking for terrist threats, no, that bit about the pinball machine parts and plutonium is from Back to the Future. I suggest you give it a watch -- it's a great set of movies.
-Cril
I'm in the phone booth, it's the one across the hall
If you don't answer, I'll just ring it off the wall
I know he's there, but I just had to call
Don't leave me hanging on the telephone
Don't leave me hanging on the telephone
Blondie - Hanging on the Telephone
No comments:
Post a Comment