Unfortunately, I think what most women have in common is an obscene phone caller. We’ve either had it happen to us or to someone we know.
But I have a new way of dealing with it. Won’t you help?
An Obscene Phone Caller Strikes
My most recent experience with an obscene phone caller was shocking and unsettling in a way I never anticipated. Comcast had just installed wireless internet for me, and activated telephone functions I had never bothered with: one was Caller ID.
The call came one evening. I answered, and the man on the other end literally went off on me. Gross.
I hung up on him.
He called back several times over the next few days. I know because I learned what Caller ID was all about. One time, he left a beyond pornographic grunting message that was so appalling I had to cover my ears (not being smart enough to simply turn off the answering machine). Worse, I felt exposed and vulnerable.
My friends insisted I call the police.
Well, years ago I’d had a similar, less pornographic experience. The police came out and sympathized while not commenting on how people should protect themselves if the caller showed up in person. The phone company advised me to shout, “I’ve got your number and I’ll see you in court.” I tried that: it worked.
This time, years of technology intervened.
The Victim Strikes Back
I called the phone company. They taught me how to find phone messages (no wonder people had been complaining about unreturned phone calls) and to how to block a caller. They also urged me to call the police.
So I did. From the nonemergency number I was directed to 911. The 911 dispatcher asked if I’d saved the message left on my recorder.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked. “I was not going to bed with that message on my machine. But I do have his phone number.” (At last, technology works for me!)
The dispatcher wanted to know what I wanted to do. He wanted to send a police officer to file an official complaint.
What did I want to do about this man? Honest, I thought about it. The answer came quickly, unexpectedly, and was totally right.
“I want you to call his mother,” I said.
“Ma’am, we can’t do that,” the dispatcher responded.
“You asked me what I wanted, and I want you to call his mother. I bet a lot of this stuff would stop if these creeps’ mothers knew what they were doing.”
“We can’t do that.”
“Well, you should,” I said reasonably and calmly. I was so right. “Besides, I’ve got his number, you should trace that back to him and find his mother.”
“Ma’am, I’m sending an officer to talk with you.”
The Police (Sort of) Step In … and On Themselves
And he did. Less than ten minutes later one of the tallest men I’d ever seen showed up at my door, in full uniform, including a gun. Honestly, he was so big I was intimidated. And his gun—what if it accidentally fired and hit one of my kids?
We talked. I gave him the obscene phone caller’s number.
He stared at it, shaking his head. “These guys are idiots.”
“No kidding,” I said. “But tell me, since everybody but me knows about Caller ID, did he do it on purpose, so I could find him, or is he just an idiot?”
“Hmm,” the officer said. “How do you think he found you?”
“The phone book?” I said. “How do I know? I do have websites, it could be the Internet.”
And here came the second shocker. The officer’s face twitched knowingly and a brief smirk flitted across it. “Oh, you’re on the Internet,” he said.
Granted, I’m an intuitive and hear things I shouldn’t, but you didn’t need to be a psychic to know what he was thinking. I don’t jump to conclusions, but his were written all over his face.
I was furious, but went deadly quiet. “I am a respectable businesswoman. I do not run a pornographic site.”
He had the grace to flinch and flush. But he didn’t apologize.
He filed a police report. Gave me a case number. Said the police in Oklahoma, where the phone was registered, would check it out. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
How Women Can Take Charge of Obscenity: Call Their Mothers!
Technology has such a large reach now that they can police anything. Find anyone. Anywhere. Sobering. But not real comforting. It isn’t solving our problems, like obscene phone callers. And it wasn’t what I wanted.
“What do you want us to do?” the officer asked. Again.
“I want you to call his mother. I want her to know what a creep she raised. I want her to stop him.”
He assured me that the police couldn’t do that.
Too too bad.
Really, wouldn’t respectability solve a lot of things? At least good manners?
Would wars end because women stood up and refused to send their children to fight?
Would thieves and bad bankers and bad mortgage lenders and bad businesses think twice about whatever crap they were pulling?
Would obscene phone callers be forever silenced if their mothers knew what they were doing?
Sure, some mothers don’t care. Some mothers aren’t really mothers, or citizens of the planet. But a lot of them are.
And more women are like me: sisters, aunts, cousins, friends.
So here you go. All you women out there, talk to your kids, to all the kids you know, about manners. Weirdness. Obsessions.
Telephone abuse.
Granted, our kids don’t always grow up to be good guys. But every woman out there has to try to teach them what it means to be good citizens and neighbors. Set an example of community, compassion, integrity, and simple politeness.
It isn’t that hard. Won’t you help?
Call their mothers. Embarrass all of them.
Stand up for your planet. Your country. Your neighbors.
Do right by your kids.
Make the rest of us proud.
© 2011 Robyn M Fritz