Chapel 7-6575


The first time a boy called me on the phone I decided Alexander Graham Bell was cooler than the Beatles. Phone calls were a great way to flirt with boys who let their “fingers do the walking.”

Then there was that magical birthday when my Dad presented me with a yellow princess phone complete with my own phone line. Little did he know, I wore him down with that constant busy signal.

I was in heaven. I spent hours on the phones with either boys or best friends discussing boys. Life was good.

Then the bottom caved in. I got my first prank phone call. Being in the eighth grade, heavy breathing on the end of the line can make a young girl as scared as a Twilight Zone episode.

After several of these calls, I decided to take matters into my own hands. The next time this weirdo called and did his heavy breathing act, I simply asked, “What’s wrong with you? Do you have a bad case of asthma?” He responded with a giggle and a hang up. That ended my stalker days.

All was quiet on the Western Front for years. The telephone was still a good thing. Then some twisted mind came up with calling you out of the blue wanting to know if you needed a storm door and windows.

As my memory is not what it used to be, I called Very Best Friend.

ME:  “What did they call those phone calls when some pushy guy would call and want to sell you a side of beef with a deep freeze thrown in?”
VBF: “Prank phone calls.”
ME: “No. That was when some pervert called to ask what color your panties you were wearing.”
VBF: Was it spam?”
ME: “No, computers weren’t invented then.”

She wasn’t much help. So I racked my brain and finally remembered the evil telemarketers. They called all the time for awhile so suddenly, I was forced to talk to people I didn’t know much less care about what they were selling.

Dearly Departed Husband actually loved the whole thing. When some poor schmuck would call about his product, DDH was respond with, “We were just talking about that when you called. Tell me more.” Then he’d keep the old boy on the line for 20 minutes until he finally announced we weren’t interested. It was his way of getting this annoying guy back and learning how to sell all at the same time.

Then Ma Bell got smart and invented caller ID. Of course it cost extra.

The computer replaced the phone with spam and today the home phone, if you still have one, is used by bill collectors only. With cell phones attached to our ears, once again we don’t get calls from those we don’t know.

That was until the other day when I received the strangest call I’ve ever had on my cell phone. It was a recorded one that said, “I am one of the Prayer Closet Guards. We are about to place you into the Profit’s Prayer Closet.”

What? I don’t want to be thrown into a closet. I prefer the garden. Are we back to heavy breathing all over again? Have they finally gotten to me on my safe cell phone? This cannot be!

If they call again, I’ll know what to do. I’ll simply tell them, “I’ve already come out of the closet, thank you.” Then I’ll hang up. Think that will do it?

Spreading laughter throughout the world…one chuckle at a time.

Mikie Baker

Be Sociable, Share!

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

4 Responses to “Chapel 7-6575”

  1. Brenda James says on :

    Me, too!!! And, if you knew my opinion on religion, you would have tripped, as did my kids, that ANYONE would think I’d want to be prayed for! Lord have mercy! What was that? However, I now have an address listing that Prophet Manasses…Hey, wait a minute…were we punked? : D

  2. Forrest Landry says on :

    Mikie, for Heaven’s Sake! Or Heaven Sakes, depending upon which part of Texas you’re from: I’ve been in far, far better closets than anyone would usually imagine. I spent almost four days in a closet that was bigger and better-equipped (and cooler!) than my present apartment, which is very nice Thank You but here I have a bathroom and a kitchen.

    THAT closet was filled with more stuff than I’d ever like to recall. I was actually employed to be in there, I was Organizing Your Stuff’s main stacker (Good Money, at that) and this person had more shoes than Imelda Marcos (I know you know who she is) (No, that’s not a slur on anyone’s physical progress) and they were basically just kicked off into a corner (that was bigger’n my present bedroom!) and needed matching, then put on shelves which had been built in so one could quickly choose from the variations of over 700 pair of foot coverings.

    Took me almost four full days – okay, okay, I’m OCD and had to have every pair just so – and during that arduous task I had to rearrange three huge piles of boxes of new shoes that hadn’t even been opened yet (I stacked them neatly against the wall behind the “Shoe Presentation Displays”) (Perhaps they’ve never even been discovered!!) and received not only gushing kudos for the totally fabulous job I did… but also a pretty darn hefty tip.

    Mikie, closets can be fun! So when you get one of these Angelic telephone solicitations, tell’em you’re already in Heaven, your closet is bigger than the Sistine Chapel and far, far better decorated. Yeah, just make it up as you go along. After all, that’s what I do!

    Deepest Thanks for your wonderful takes on our Wacky World!


  3. Mikie Baker says on :

    I can not explain a woman’s love of shoes. It just comes with the package. I would love to have a large closet that you could organize. Just don’t pray in it or lock me in…

  4. Lynn Blake says on :

    I can’t believe you still have that yellow phone!! Love you

Leave a Reply