My sister suffers from some form of solipsistic telephoniasis. She assumes due to some inner logic mechanism that if she’s awake then, logically, the rest of the family must be.
So on the one night in the past million that I’ve actually gotten to sleep at a reasonable hour I get a call (30 minutes ago now) from my sister to ask me (ME) if our mother (that’s our MOTHER) is planning to bring her (my mother’s) dog when she goes with my sister to Dollywood this weekend.
LIKE I KNOW OR GIVE A DAMN! HERE’S A THOUGHT! CALL THE OLD WOMAN HERSELF AND ASK HER!@!!@~@~! Or is that too **$#%#$ing logical!"
Said: I don’t know. Why don’t you call her and ask her?
My sister: “Well I would, but she might be asleep.”
My sister: “Is Mama gonna throw one of her damned Chief Off-His-Meds-Again crazy ass conniptions on this trip?”
Me: I have no idea. I’m not going, but that’s honestly not why. I know she’s looking forward to it.
My sister: Well she better not.
LONG PAUSE
My sister: Were you asleep?
Me: No… not really… just starting to doze a bit. (Southern for “Yes, soundly.”)
And of course now I’m wide awake.
Moral of story: don’t call somebody after 10:00 p.m. unless you know for absolute positive (not just “good chance of it”) that they’re awake. And don’t do drugs and stuff.
I suppose she made the fatal blunder of correlating one in a million with absolutely positive. Funnily enough, I went to sleep at 8.30 last night. Must be something in the air.
My moment of disbelief comes in the idea that you are surprised by this. From everything I’ve ever read about your sister, the idea that there are actually other people with totally independent lives out there who aren’t dying to listen to her every word as if it were sweet ambrosia dripping from the very lotus of enlightenment itself never comes close to crossing her mind.
My mother is notorious for calling people at bizarre hours of the night, cheerfully acknowledging that she’s probably woken them up. However, there was an amusing WTF moment when, one night, she called her friend at 1 in the morning (waking said friend up, of course). They chatted for a bit about whatever it was that had popped into my mother’s head and hung up. 6:00 the next morning, the friend called her for more chatter. My mother woke me up after her conversation…
Mom: Can you believe “P” woke me up at 6 this morning to talk?
Me: snurgle… Huh?
Mom: I mean, she knows I was up to 2:00 this morning talking to her!
I’d have more sympathy for the OP, but the fact that she censored herself in the Og dammed pit…
But yeah, you think you got it bad. When I first started working nights from 7pm to 7am. My Mom would call me at 2 in the afternoon. I’d pick up the phone half asleep 'mmhello…?" Her response was “It’s 2 o’clock in the afternoon. Why are you still asleep?!” It would be at this point where I would hang up the phone on her. (Then turn the phone off)
I didn’t dare say this to her but
1.) I’m not a kid anymore. if I want to sleep till 5 o’clock at night that’s my f’n business.
Let me call YOU at 2am and lets see what YOU happen to be doing… :rolleyes:
What sucks is I have a kid so turning the phone off isn’t an option for me.
It’s amazing how flummoxed people can get if, when they ask, “Were you asleep?” (stupid question, considering I just answered the phone by saying “Snrglefloogo?”) you say, “Yep” and then wait. It throws’em, I’m telling you. Hey, I just woke up, I’m entitled to some amusement.
Hubby and I work nights and sleep while the kids are in school. The phone on my nightstand has caller ID; if it rings and the ID isn’t my mom (who knows not to call unless someone is dead or on fire) or one of the schools, I quickly pick up and put down the receiver, roll over, and go back to sleep.
People do this at their own risk. Someone phoned me the other night when I was already asleep, and when he addressed me in French, in my addled state I answered back in Spanish before I completely woke up.
Sampiromom and Sampirosis are goin’ on a trip? I eagerly await the stories.
I had a friend who was notorious for calling after 10 PM even after being told not to do it unless there was an emergency involving flood, fire, famine, plague, pestilence or death. Any true emergency being one that involved all six at once. He had a hard time taking the hint. That is until I started calling him at 5 AM every morning for two weeks. He got the hint after that.
Ya know, upon reading what I just wrote it occurs to me that that could have been a somewhat unwise move on my part. See, he’s also the only one I let cut my hair. A cranky hairstylist just cannot be a good thing.
In college, I shared an extension with four other people. One of whom regularly got calls at two in the morning from his girl friend who apparently did not understand trans-Atlantic time zones. I had the perverse pleasure of the following exchange:
Phone rings
Phone rings
(I look at the clock: 2:30)
Phone rings
Phone rings
Me: (Grumble-grumble) Hello?
Caller: Is Andrew there?
Me: Could you get a dictionary please?
Caller: Why?
–==Click==–
Phone rings
Me: Hello?
Caller: Uh… Is Andrew there?
Me: Do you have that dictionary?
Caller: No.
–==Click==–
Phone rings
Me: Do you have that dictionary?
Caller: Yes.
Me: Please look up the word “emergency.”
Caller: (Pages flip) Okay.
Me: Please read the definition.
Caller: (Reads definition)
Me: Does the purpose of this call fall within the definition of “emergency”?
Caller: Uh… No.
Me: Then would you mind calling back in six hours when the rest of us are awake?
My boss does this. He takes the idea that salaried employees work the job, not the clock, to the extreme. 1am, 4am, whenever. If it pops into his skull and he MUST bounce it off someone, he calls me. “Hi. It’s me. This can’t wait. You weren’t sleeping, right?” No, boss. I’m here sitting next to the phone, staring at it and waiting specifically for you to call. Even though you could, I don’t know, call and leave this rambling message on my voice mail at the office, and I’d be able to get it taken care of as soon as I got in. Now I have the added joy of laying awake and thinking about it all night.
Hey hey… REAL MEN love Mama Rose. (I mean Karl Malden was in the movie and he’s not gay… well alright, actually he is [at least he’s used male prostitutes]- BUT Jack Klugman was in the role on Broadway and he was so manly he was able to have sex with Brett Somers, so…)
