jag312
Member
Let's start by saying that my momma didn't raise no stupid kids. Plus 40+ years in law enforcement added to my education. I got a call yesterday:
Caller #1: Hello grandpa.
Me: You got the wrong number. I ain't no one's grandfather.
Caller #1: Don't hang up. I was just joking. Don't you recognize my voice? I'm your oldest cousin.
Me: Mike?
Caller #1: Yes. (Now my cousin was born and raised in Brooklyn, and he has a strong Brooklyn accent. This guy does not have a Brooklyn accent.)
Caller #1: I'm in trouble. I'm in jail, I was involved in an accident, and I need to be bailed out. Don't call anyone in the family. I don't want anyone except you to know about this. Please, don't call anyone in the family. I gave your number to my Public Defender to call you about arranging the bail.
Caller #2: I'm Danny Morgan, your cousin's Public Defender. We need to arrange bail for your cousin.
Me: For my cousin Mike Peterson? (I have a cousin named Mike, but his last name ain't Peterson)
Caller #2: First I need to have you withdraw $9,400 from your bank. I'll call back in about an hour to see if you have the cash. Then I'll give you instructions about where to send it. Don't tell the bank what it is for. Otherwise they won't give you the money. (I'm starting to really like this)
About an hour later, Caller #2: Do you have the money? And a magazine for Mike to read while he is waiting in jail. (How thoughtful)
Me: This is for my cousin Mike Peterson, right.
Caller #2: Yes, it is for your cousin Mike Peterson. I'll call back in about an hour with the instructions about where to send it.
At this point my niece Katie and I are laughing hysterically. She suggested what type of magazine to send, but I would be too embarrassed to go to a so-called adult book store and buy the type of pornographic magazine she suggested. I had called my real cousin Mike and left a message to call me.
Mike: What's the matter? What happened?
Me: Mike. I'm so glad to hear that you're home from jail. Who bailed you out?
Mike: WHAT?!!
I explained everything to Mike, and we both had a good laugh. Then I jumped in my car and drove to Sacramento for the Al Capone Auction.
If there is anyone here that also was at the auction, I was the old guy wearing worn Levi's with the big hole in the right leg, a worn work shirt, a worn Levi jacket with motorcycle patches, and a worn, faded, stained cowboy hat. And I bought the Randall knife. I paid too much, but I had to bring something home.
Caller #1: Hello grandpa.
Me: You got the wrong number. I ain't no one's grandfather.
Caller #1: Don't hang up. I was just joking. Don't you recognize my voice? I'm your oldest cousin.
Me: Mike?
Caller #1: Yes. (Now my cousin was born and raised in Brooklyn, and he has a strong Brooklyn accent. This guy does not have a Brooklyn accent.)
Caller #1: I'm in trouble. I'm in jail, I was involved in an accident, and I need to be bailed out. Don't call anyone in the family. I don't want anyone except you to know about this. Please, don't call anyone in the family. I gave your number to my Public Defender to call you about arranging the bail.
Caller #2: I'm Danny Morgan, your cousin's Public Defender. We need to arrange bail for your cousin.
Me: For my cousin Mike Peterson? (I have a cousin named Mike, but his last name ain't Peterson)
Caller #2: First I need to have you withdraw $9,400 from your bank. I'll call back in about an hour to see if you have the cash. Then I'll give you instructions about where to send it. Don't tell the bank what it is for. Otherwise they won't give you the money. (I'm starting to really like this)
About an hour later, Caller #2: Do you have the money? And a magazine for Mike to read while he is waiting in jail. (How thoughtful)
Me: This is for my cousin Mike Peterson, right.
Caller #2: Yes, it is for your cousin Mike Peterson. I'll call back in about an hour with the instructions about where to send it.
At this point my niece Katie and I are laughing hysterically. She suggested what type of magazine to send, but I would be too embarrassed to go to a so-called adult book store and buy the type of pornographic magazine she suggested. I had called my real cousin Mike and left a message to call me.
Mike: What's the matter? What happened?
Me: Mike. I'm so glad to hear that you're home from jail. Who bailed you out?
Mike: WHAT?!!
I explained everything to Mike, and we both had a good laugh. Then I jumped in my car and drove to Sacramento for the Al Capone Auction.
If there is anyone here that also was at the auction, I was the old guy wearing worn Levi's with the big hole in the right leg, a worn work shirt, a worn Levi jacket with motorcycle patches, and a worn, faded, stained cowboy hat. And I bought the Randall knife. I paid too much, but I had to bring something home.
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