adventures with telephones

I do this thing, sometimes, when I meet new people, of not saving their number in my phone. You may ask, as others have, how I am able to call those new people. It’s easy, really. I simply find their number in my recent call log, and press “Send.” Simple.

That is how I accidentally prank-called the 94th precinct police station.

You know sometimes when you call a friend, and they pretend they're a pizza delivery place, and so you play along, imitating their funny accent, and order a pizza that isn't actually palatable? It was like that. Only with cops.

But it’s not really my fault. Who would know that Brooklyn cops sound like that? I mean, they really sound like that. And who would know that they don’t have a sense of humor enough to laugh after they say you’ve called the ninety-four-fourth precinct, and you respond in a terrible approximation of their accent- (but in a singsong version) that you are sooo disappointed, because you wanted to talk to the ninety-third-third precinct. Or that they’d respond to your banter with nothing other than, “Who is this?”

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