Just after lunch last Friday, I thought for sure I was going to kill someone with my bare hands. I'm so not kidding, people. My mother I had been on my a** all week because she had a bunch of stuff that she needed to do, and when she wants something done it has to be right away, or she will just keep harping about it until it's done. She's got no damn patience that woman. I also had to help my sister deal with some issues from a past relationship (she volunteered me for the job... gee, thanks so much... not!), and she was extra bitter, so imagine how much fun that was for me. Then, I had some business related stuff to settle (I'll save that maddening story for another day), and there was just no pleasing anybody.
God, help me!! I'd been going & going like the freakin' Energizer Bunny all day, and I seriously needed a moment alone -- ASAP. So, I decided to go check my e-mail. When I opened up my inbox, the subject line "Anger Management" was staring back at me. Is this some kind of a joke, I thought to myself. Then, I clicked to read the message.
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***ing 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 a**hole!" and hung up.
I wrote his number down with the word 'a**hole' 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 a**hole!" It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic 'a**hole' calling would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from the telephone company. 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 a**hole!" and hung up.
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, so I wrote down his number. A couple of days later, right after calling the first a**hole (I had is number on speed dial) I thought that I'd better call the BMW a**hole, too. I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?" He said, "Yes, it is." I asked, "Can you tell me where I can see it?" He said, "Yes, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd, in Fairfax. It's a yellow ranch, and the car's parked right out in front." I asked, "What's your name?" He said, "My name is Don Hansen." I asked, "When's a good time to catch you, Don?" He said, "I'm home every evening after five." I said, "Listen, Don, can I tell you something?" He said, "Yes?" I said, "Don, you're an a**hole!" Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.
Now, when I had a problem, I had two a**holes to call. Then, I came up with an idea. I called a**hole #1. He said, "Hello." I said, "You're an a**hole!" but I didn't hang up. He asked, "Are you still there?" I said, "Yeah." He screamed, "Stop calling me." I said, "Make me." He asked, "Who are you?" I said, "My name is Don Hansen." He said, "Yeah? Where do you live?" I said, "A**hole, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd, in Fairfax, a yellow ranch. I have a 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, a**hole," and hung up.
Then, I called A**hole #2. He said, "Hello?" I said, "Hello, a**hole." He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are..." I said, "You'll what?" He exclaimed, "I'll kick your a**!" I answered, "Well, a**hole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."
I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 34 Oaktree Blvd, in Fairfax, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover. Next, I called Channel 9 News about the gang war going down in Oaktree Blvd, in Fairfax. Then, I quickly got into my car and headed over to Fairfax. I got there just in time to watch the two a**holes beating the crap out of each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead news helicopter, and surrounded by a news crew.
NOW I feel much better. Anger management really does work.
To the person who sent me this story (you know who you are), I can't thank you enough. I needed to read it more than you can ever know. It's been so long since I laughed that freakin' hard. Priceless, just priceless!
Now, if you'll all excuse me, I need to find a couple of a**holes I don't know & get their phone numbers.