Retired Firefighter    ■    Power Dispatcher    ■    Husband    ■    Daddy    ■    Grandpa    ■    Crazy Man

Thursday, November 11, 2010

What?? What's my Name???

The volunteer association meeting ended, and several of us wandered out to socialize with the career staff on duty before heading home for the night.

I was standing in the kitchen when the fire phone rang. Conversations muted immediately, and some of us turned to listen. Captain Stauber was the career officer on for the night, but volunteer Captain Lund managed to snag the phone before Stauber grabbed it from his spot on the couch.

Fire Department, what are you reporting.

Yes, ma'am.

OK, 4519 West 17th Avenue, right? OK. What is the problem, again?

In a tree? Your cat is, in a tree? (eyebrows up at us)

You're kidding, right? Are we really hearing this? Eyes rolled.

How high? Because we can't, well.... OK, well we aren't permitted to do that any more.

Yes, I'm sorry, but we can't (interrupted)........ we can't be committed to rescuing your cat and be unable to respond to a true emergency.

(apologetic) Yes, I'm sorry, they won't let us do that in case we get a fire or heart attack or other emergency that we can't get to quickly enough.

(pulls phone a bit away from ear in surprise) Well I'm sorry (interrupted)........ I'm (interrupted)........ well, no (interrupted)........ (looks at us with disbelief, he's getting an earful).

(forcefully) Ma'am, I'm sorry, but there is no need to use that kind of language.

Ma'am (interrupted)........ ma'am, I'm sorry (interrupted)........ now that's $@&*^$#%, that's enough, don't talk to me that way!

Dead silence violently falls across the room except for the voice from the caller harping at Captain Lund. Captain Stauber, a heavyset guy with blood pressure issues, suddenly stood up in alarm.

Well I'm sorry you feel that way, but if you're (interrupted)........ well, you can kiss my #&%, you #%&*%$ #&*%&*% @^*(%!

Captain Stauber is, like most of us, panic-stricken and is frantically signaling Lund to shut the hell up. And pale and sweaty. Just that fast.

Yeah, that's right, %#*& you and your &%$*@#? cat, you %^&%@ ^#$*%#* *#&$^@%&$*%!!

We were all completely dumbstruck with mouths hanging open, it was surreal. Stauber looked like he was going to have a major myocardial infarction on the spot.

What?? What's my name??? Yeah, &^$%#^%$, it's Stauber! That's Captain Stauber, you &%&^%#.

Lund slammed down the phone and stormed out of the day room, slamming the door. Stauber's eyes didn't even follow Lund out, they were locked on the now-hung-up fire phone.

What was maybe three seconds felt like an eternity of silence as we all stared at each other in utter disbelief, before we heard the laughter on the apparatus floor.

One of the other guys in back had called the fire phone from his cell phone. It was no coincidence that Captain Lund snagged the phone first.

One of the best firehouse pranks I have ever witnessed. We were all phenomenally OWNED.


No comments:

Post a Comment