Who uses public phones anymore? Anyway, I'm not sure why but I picked it up. Maybe it was an emergency or.…The voice on the other end started asking me questions, almost like he was taking a survey, you know? Just ordinarily, friendly questions.
I ended up having maybe an eight or ten minute conversation with this joker. Maybe longer, i can’t be sure. Of course at first, it occurred to me this was a prank and as such, I became acutely aware of my immediate surroundings, started looking around, thinking, is there a camera crew lurking in a van parked across the street? I even wondered if the people around me weren't in on it, like paid extras in a movie. I had no intention of ending up as the latest viral punchline on Youtube. No thanks. Or maybe this guy was some kind of pervert? Some guys like women’s feet and other guys like dressing up as babies. Maybe this guy got off on hearing other people’s voices? I couldn't image how this could be titillating but human beings are capable of anything. You only have to go online to realise that. As far as the pervert angle went, thankfully the conversation never evolved into anything sordid, just more general conversation.
He told me a little bit about his life, some personal stuff. He hadn't killed anyone but there were a few indiscretions that you might expect from someone who’d lived an average life. And once he got going, well...I opened up a little bit, told him a few things. It only seemed fair. Things about Monica and the kids. Some of my true feeling about my Dad. Some of the feeling I have had recently about a female co-worker and the incident that had happened as a result of those feeling. Only I didn't use their real names.
"So what is this?" I asked the voice on the other end, "Therapy for you or something? You like to confess to people? Is that how you get your kicks?"
“Let’s just say I'm just exploring random connections in the universe,” he laughed.
"Just reaching out?"
"Something like that," he said.
"Alright then...enjoy the rest of your...life. I guess."
"Same to you," he said.
2.
I hung up and went back inside the house. I fucking hate modem phones. You know how it is, how they steal away your privacy one insincere update at a time. Still, I guess you have to have one these days, right? Otherwise, you might end up as some kind of digital shut-out. A hermit in the modern age. “Join the conversation.” Isn't that what they say?
I got this list when I used to work nights at the exchange. God, that was a job and a half. A night watchman in a completely empty building. Back in those days, the network consisted of rooms full of electronic switches and sub-switchers clicking away in the dark as the city whispered dirty secrets to itself. All night long. I did that job for 8 years. It changed me, I realise that now. Anyway, there it was, in a three-ringed binder, in a draw, this complete list of all the public phones located around the metropolitan area. Most of them would be decommissioned by now, especially seeing as how everyone has their little handheld toys to keep them company.
These calls can go a number of different ways. You punch in the number and sometimes no one answers. The phone just keeps on ringing on an empty street at the end of the line. Sometimes people pick up and tell you to fuck off. Sometimes people get freaky, like this is their big opportunity to say something terrible. Something thrillingly counter to their nature, something they can't ordinarily say.
Sometimes they make things up. I can usually tell. I have talked to my share of mental cases as well. Ranters and ravers. And sometimes they just tell the truth.
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