As any of you avid readers already know, I have gotten a new job. Well, I think I have. I am sort of waiting for all the details to sort themselves out. So in the meantime I have been running around like a crazy person trying to get things done. You know, buying clothes with my friend Meredith (who totally saved my fucking life, by the way) and doing important things like having an impromptu shredding party with my friend Ben! So, get this. I am subletting my room while I am away to a friend, and former roommate, who is going to double as a catsitter! I decided that the most important thing to do before his arrival was not to clean out space for his stuff in the closet but instead to shred all the paper that has been piling up around the room. I had noticed when I was at Staples the other day that they have a shredding service and since the drawer in my shredder is jammed shut somehow I thought I would lug all the paper to Staples and have them do away with it. But first, I had to go to Ben’s to help him out with something. So I walked up the block with all my shreddable things, figuring I would ask him if he needed anything shredded and I could just take it with me to Staples. So he opens the door to his building and you will not believe what happened.
Ben: So I have to show you my new toy.
Me: Oh?
Ben: Yea. Well, I already maybe jammed it but look at my new shredder!
I kid you not. Ben was sitting in his house shredding! And I needed to shred! What are the odds?! It was like, totally meant to be. Anyway, after two hours we had over-heated the shredder and had to call it quits but we both felt totally accomplished and I felt like we were really meant to be friends, you know? I mean, who else but a real friend would (a) be shredding when you needed to be shredding (b) invite you to shred with him and (c) play kickass tunes while shredding?! No one, that’s who!
Anyway, none of this is the point. The point is that while I am waiting for my job to come through I have been picking up a bar shift here and there to make some extra cash and keep myself busy. So last night I picked up a shift and it was really fun! The people were nice, it was chill, I did some chatting, I caught up with an old friend who I hadn’t sat down with and talked to for quite some time. It was all really good. Except for this one thing. They have a creepy prank phone caller! So there I was, behind the bar, minding my own business when the phone rang. I answered.
Me: Good evening, (insert name of bar here).
Creeper: Mumbles something incomprehensible.Me: Come again?
Creeper: More incomprehensible mumbling.
Me: Dude, you really are going to need to enunciate a little better than that if you want me to help you with something.
Creeper: Still completely incapable of speaking comprehensibly.
I hung up the phone. I then walked over to my coworker and told him that someone called and I couldn’t understand what the hell he was saying and my coworker said,
“Did he ask if he could smell your feet?”
I realized just in that moment that that was exactly what he had asked! I was immediately disgusted and went on one of my “what is wrong with people?!” downward spirals. In mid-spiral the phone rang again!
Me: Good evening, (insert name of bar here).
Creeper: Can I smell you feet?
Me: Dude!
I hung up. Then my coworker informed me that this guy only calls when there is a female bartender working. Like, what?! So then I was even more grossed out cuz he is like, chilling outside maybe. Or he lives across the street and spies with creepy little binoculars while wearing a satin robe. I mean, if you are going to do all that at least ask everyone if you can smell their feet. I mean, it is still a totally creepy thing to do but it is maybe less creepy when it is like an equal opportunity thing, am I right? So I decided something had to be done. I simply could not stand idly by and allow this weird phone creeper to keep calling, creeping people out and being a weirdo. So I waited, patiently, for the phone to ring again and when it did I was ready!
Me: Good evening, (insert name of bar here).
Creeper: Can I smell your feet?
Me: Sure. But only if I can shit in your mouth.
And then he hung up! I out creeped the creeper! I don’t know if this is something that I should necessarily be proud of but, you know, I felt as though there was a job that needed doing and I was the one who could do it. If anyone can out creep someone by using statements about fecal matter, it was this girl. The funny thing about all this is that the people around the phone when I answered really didn’t know what was going on so all they heard was this:
Me: Good evening, (insert name of bar here).
Silence as I awaited the response I knew was coming.
Me: Sure. But only if I can shit in your mouth.
And then I had a big smile on my face. So there was a moment there where I wasn’t a woman in battle with a creeper, I was the creeper! It was me. Rebekah the creeper. Obviously I cleared up the situation and we all laughed and laughed but there was a moment there where I really saw the fear in their eyes as if they were thinking
“if she would shit in the mouth of some random caller what else is she capable of?!”
I felt what it might be like to be a creeper and I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it one bit.
franklyrebekah 
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