Building Bridges

I just walked in the door from work five minutes ago. I'm tired, I'm cranky, and I'll probably bite the head off of a frog later just for fun.

The only highlight of my day was when my most favorite, and yet most obnoxious customer got it into his head to prank phone call me, because evidently he had way, way, way too much time on his hands. It went something a little like this ...

"Good afternoon. This is Stacey."

"You build bridges?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't quite hear you," I said, thinking that I must have heard him wrong.

"Bridges. You build them?" The funny voice asked again, sounding rather cartoon-ish. "You have "I" beams?"

(Now here is where I paused, quite confused, but not yet willing to let on to the guy on the other end of the phone.)

"Ummm, are you maybe looking for the commercial side of our company?" I asked, praying that I could pass him down to Linda on the opposite side of the hall for her to deal with.

"No. Want to talk to you. You Stacey. I talk to you."

At this point I am noticeably giggling, trying my best to keep it together, while pushing away from my desk and leaning back in the chair, figuring I might as well be comfortable if I've got to deal with this crackpot.

"Stacey. What you laughing at? You laughing at me," the voice asked gruffly, as if I'd hurt his feelings.

"No," I stammered, stifling a fit of giggles, "I am not laughing at you."

"Good. I no like to be laughed at."

Still unsure of who it could be, or if he was even for real, I decided to take a chance. "Okay, who is this?"

"You Stacey. I know this."

"Are you quite sure about that?" I asked. "I'm not feeling very much like me at the moment."

"You not know you Stacey?"

"No. I don't know I Stacey." I said, desperately trying to place the voice that now seemed very recognizable. "And who might you be?"

"God loves you," said the voice.

"I'm sure he does," I shot back. "I'm practically a saint."

"You help me build bridges?"

Pressing the mute button, I screamed in mock frustration. "No!" I said, more forcefully this time around. "I don't know how to build bridges! We don't sell bridges! We only sell - information withheld. I can't help you."

"You Stacey. Stacey can help."

"Ugh! Come on now, stop messing with my mind! Who are you and why are you calling me?"

"Stacey. You hold on now. I get you someone who wants talk to you."

"You do that," I said, pretending to be miffed. The phone clattered for a moment, and though muffled, it was easy to hear the sound of laughter.

"Uhhh Stacey. What you doing, babe?" he said, his voice laced with mock innocence. Meanwhile, I was ready to kill him.

"Rick! You freaking gooney bastard. I can't believe you just put me through all that." I screamed as he laughed evilly. "And now, to make matters worse, I have a laugh headache, and it's all your fault!"

"Careful what you say, Pauly's listening in on the line."

"Oh ... So Paul's in on this too?" I asked. "Both of you are going to get your asses kicked." I threatened, as they both broke out in laughter. "Yeah, go ahead and laugh, I have a long memory and payback is as much of a bitch as I am."

"Now don't be like that. You loved it. You know you did."

"That's besides the point, I need advil now because of you!"

"Well, you'll have to get that after I place my order."

"You expect me to do you a favor now?" I asked incredulously. "Uh huh ... Humph."

"Come on babe, you know you love me.

"Loathe you yes, love you no." I countered. "But tell me what you want anyway, and I'll think about putting it through."