"Oh, I am so blogging about that!" That's become a phrase in my vocabulary, and if you tell me a really good story, don't be surprised to hear it.
For example, Miss K and I were having our usual dinner at Hana this week, along with Lynn, another local luminary in the fantasy-fulfillment trade, and of course we got into weird-ass phone calls discussion.
Miss K said, "Oh, I got one. Crazy!"
"Tell, tell," I said.
"It wasn't an irate spouse, exactly," she began. "It took me a while to figure out just what this woman wanted, because she was so indirect. But what we eventually got to was: she wanted me to call her if her boyfriend ever called me."
"Wait," I said, clutching my head. "Some woman called you. She says she has a boyfriend. And she wants you to notify her if said boyfriend contacts you about a session."
"You would of course be able to identify this man using the sophisticated voiceprint technology on your cell phone."
She laughed. "Apparently she thinks so."
"And you would do this…why, pray tell?"
"Damned if I know."
"Oh. I thought maybe she offered you a high-ranking political position in her imaginary kingdom or something."
Miss K shook her head. "But it gets weirder."
"Oh, god. What?"
"Well, then she started asking a bunch of other questions and it turns out she's always wondered about being an escort herself. So she wanted me to tell her all about how to do that."
"Which, naturally, you refused to do."
"Hell, yes, I refused, I'm not about to talk about that with some whacko. But she kept asking, and I kept saying I wasn't going to talk about that. You keep thinking they'll hang up, you know, but she kept coming up with questions."
"Yep – that's pretty fucking weird." I then told Miss K and Lynn about the "Secretary Man," star of this week's Stranger column. "But your call is so charmingly bizarre, do you mind if I write about it?"
"Go right ahead," said Miss K.
So I did…
PostScript: A big "Happy Birthday" goes out to T. - along with my thanks, for being so extremely cool.