Who Dat?

I'm sure you thought this was gonna be a post about the New Orleans Saints.

*Buzzer*...I said all about that subject in comments on another blog, that I need to. Good game, with one team winning, one team losing, and a butt-cheek-load of pundits spinning their own respective psychoanalyses of the results.

No, what's coming h'yar is more pathetic and ludicrous.

It hasn't always been online scammers that I've had fun with and made light of. And it hasn't always been me, doing the "making light of". After all, I got conned into peeing on an electric fence in my very youth. Wasn't always the sharpest pencil in the box.

And in many ways, never will be ;-)

I have a bit of prankster in me. One rule of thumb I stick to: if I can't handle it being done to me, I don't do thus unto others. Most times, I plan a prank with some aforethought to that principle.

But once in a while, I'm a "spur of the moment" opportunist.

A former acquaintance and coworker of mine at work -- in another department -- was plainly NOT one of the sharpest pencils in the box. While she acted like one of those text-book blondes from the running jokes on same, she was an Italian-tempered brunette. But at times, she made the blondes in the jokes look positively Mensa.

One evening at work, I was doing what I was actually paid to do, when she stopped to chat with me about whatever it was she chatted about (it started out as an inquiry asto what I was doing, and it went downhill from there). During the course of which, she called me by a name not my own. Eh. In casual circumstances, I don't pay much mind to such, and didn't bother correcting her. The next several encounters, she called me by the same name. Again, eh.

But about a month later, she came up to me, clearly peeved:

"Why didn't you TELL ME that I was calling you the WRONG NAME?" For something that I wasn't that concerned about, she seemed genuinely annoyed. Knowing that she was sometimes easily-led down an obfuscational trail, I decided to indulge the little *TOING* flaw in my character:

"I didn't correct you 'cuz it doesn't matter. I answer to anything".

Here's a paraphrased recap of what followed (her in bold, me in italics):

That's ridiculous...your name is (my real name).

No...I don't have a *real* name in that sense. I answer to anything.

Stop it...of course you have a real name. My friends told me.

Your friends told you what THEY call me. That's not my real name.

Well...*somewhat exasperated sigh*...what IS your real name then?

I told you..I answer to anything. I don't have a *real* name.

That's nonsense! Everyone has a REAL NAME!

Not me. My parents were free-spirited, and wanted me to be the same.

I don't get it...

My parents encouraged me to be independent of labels, so I could call myself whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. A name is just a label. I am not stuck to a label.

But how can you work here, without a real name?

Well, for THOSE purposes, I have a *given* name...but day to day, I answer to whatever I want.

Really? I..I've never heard of that before...

Oh sure...like you know how Frank Zappa calls his kids Moonbat and Dweeb..

He does?

Yep...

So...(I am really struggling to keep a straight face at this point)..so what can I call you?

Whatever you want. It's okay with me.

Can I keep calling you (the name she started calling me)?

Sure....

Thankfully, she walked off before I lost my composure. I went on to tell my 'back of the house' cohorts what I'd done, to their utter delight. And this person -- her first name was Pam -- became known in our tight little venue as "Pam-alama-dingdong".

Yeah, I know...but I wasn't the only one feeding her lines of crap that she, and only she, was actually buying. Long as my ticket to Heckydarnpoo was already punched, I reckoned I might as well enjoy the pre-travel preparations and upgrade my seating, too.

Finally, someone got around to convincing her that I had been yanking her chain right along, and she was absolutely furious with me. And when she finally allowed herself to speak to me, she informed me that "I just can't believe what you did...you are NOT a nice person, and I can't believe a word you say!".

Dang me...dang me...I heard that *TOING* again:

"Pam, I understand fully how you feel, and don't blame you at all. You really can't believe anything I say, because I don't believe anything I say. I can't control it. It's an inherent flaw in my character".

Like I said, *TOING*. After a few moments of this kind of back and forth, I got this from a now sympathetic Pam:

You poor man...have you thought about getting help? I mean, you don't really MEAN to lie all the time, do you?

I kept this newly-struck vein going for five minutes, and for yet another day, as a friend of mine would tell me later that Pam felt "really bad for me, and thinks I'm a decent guy, apart from my problem".

When this line of crap finally got explained to her, we were back to "I can't believe you did that to me!". And I was back to "well, I can believe it...I can't help myself!".

It's been about 6 years now, since I last had the chance to get her from "No way" to "Really?".

Can one now see why the online scammers I play with, never had a chance?

Ding dong...ding dong.

Not that there won't be future 'electric fence urinations' equivalents in my own future. As I freely admit, I'm not the sharpest pencil in the box, either.

*phzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzst*