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Friday 26 June 2015

Cold call



So, I was in my office this week when this happened..

<Phone rings>

Me:    Hello?

Her:    Hi, yeah, just updating our database and we see that you've been involved in a road traffic accident recently, is that right?

Me:    Well, I killed those kids.

<silence for a few beats>

Her:    Are you fucking with me?

Me:    Well, you started it.

Her:    No I didn't?

Me:    Yes you did. You scam-called me.

Her:    It might not be a scam.

Me:    Did you just say "It might not be"?

Her:    It might not be.

Me:    But it is, isn't it?

Her:    How do you know? Have you been involved in a road traffic accident?

Me:    Well, I don't drive, and have never been in an accident, so no.

Her:    Oh

Me:    Yes. Quite.

Her:    Ah. But. Ah. You see. What sometimes happens is that someone with the same name as you WAS involved in a road traffic accident, and gave your number instead of theirs. That sometimes happens.

Me:    Wait. You're telling me that someone with my name, just happens to be carrying around the phone number of someone with the same name as him, so he can give it to the police if he's ever in an accident?

Her:    Um, yes? You never know.

Me:    You don't think that it's, perhaps, more likely that your evil boss just bought a bunch of phone numbers from some awful company that sells peoples private info for a quick buck, and you're just trying your luck?

Her:    Could be.

Me:    Are you on commision, or on a wage?

Her:    Oh, I'm on a wage.

Me:    So you don't care how much time I waste of your work day?

Her:    God no.

Me:    Ok. Hi!

Her:    Hi!

Me:    You must get some shit from people you call, doing this job, right?

Her:    Oh god yes. Had death threats, people saying they'll kill my whole family, that kind of stuff..

Me:    You know why that is, right?

Her:     Oh yeah.

Me:    You do an awful, bad job, that isn't necessary, and people hate it.

Her:    Yeah.

Me:    Well, I'm not on a wage, so I'm going to say goodbye now.

Her:    Ok! Have a nice day.

Me:    You too. Don't let the shit get you down, but also, y'know, change your job.

Her:    Yeah. Good idea. Bye!

Saturday 13 June 2015

Dusty



I was standing in the lobby of a theatre this week, about to go and see a one man show by another old vaudevillian, Jim Dale, when twitter told me the very sad news that Dusty Rhodes had died. For those of you not familiar with the world of pro-wrestling that I sometimes talk about here, this will mean little, but the rest of you will know what a huge loss this is.

One of the greatest stars of the 70's and 80's, and an important figure afterwards, he didn't have the jacked-up look of a modern wrestler, but instead, portrayed the big, rambunctious, blue collar badass everyman. The kind of dude who'd be the life of the party, but also be first in line to hand out an ass-whuppin' if things went sideways.


And boy could he talk. That's what I first loved about him. Working-man poetry delivered in a lisping Texan drawl that was made for people to do impressions of. If you've ever seen one of the final shows in any of my runs, then you would have heard his words, as I always end the last show of a run by thanking the audience with my favourite of his lines:

"I have wined and dined with kings and queens, and slept in an alley eatin' pork and beans"

Earlier this year, my friends William Regal and Robbie Brookside took great delight in telling me that Dusty had been watching some of my stuff on youtube, and loved it. Brookside said that they'd shown him the reverse tablecloth trick, and he'd looked at him sideways and said (and please start your Dusty impressions now) "Where's the gimmick man? Where's the gimmick?"

There's a very special feeling to hearing that someone whose work you love, enjoys yours back, and just as it happened with Regal and Brookside, when it happened again with Dusty I was a bit bowled over. Along with the aforementioned Brits, he was instrumental in the success of the brilliant NXT show, and I started talking about the possibility of going over to Florida where it's filmed to hang out, and see a show. And part of the fun of that idea, undeniably, was the chance to meet Dusty.

It's a testament to how loved and respected he was in the wrestling world that on the day of his death, dozens of wrestlers - big, testosterone packed behemoths, tweeted about the last time they stopped by his office for a hug. How wonderful.

It makes me very sad that I'll never get to meet him, but I'll keep on using his beautiful words, I'll keep on doing my awful Dusty impression, and I'll be grateful that my friends that were his friends made that connection.