On Googling One’s Own Name
31-Dec-06
You may remember that I posted back on Christmas Eve about the guy from Egypt calling to gush over the square cut suit. Well, I forgot to mention the other weird phone call. At 05:44 on Christmas morning my phone rang, waking me from a deep sleep. I wondered who might be calling me so early, and looked at the caller ID - it was an area code in New York City, although I didn’t know that at the time, so I answered.
“hello, who’s this?” I groggily asked.
“is this Paul Brown?” the voice on the other end asked.
“who’s this, please?” I replied. This was getting tedious.
“do you do massage? can we talk about massage?”
It just went downhill from there. I was able to pry out of him that he had googled his name, “Vince the Carpenter,” and found my professional services site. He had forgotten about the concept of time zones, though, which made baby jesus cry. He wanted me to fly to New York and give him a massage. Finally, I said to him that it wasn’t even 6am yet and that I had to go, perhaps a touch more rudely than I should have and hung up.
O Lovely Rita, I know you’re only a parking goddess, but if you could do something about freaks calling me up at all hours of the day and night, that would be extra double-plus goodness! Your supplicant, Vince