Yesterday afternoon I got out of the shower (sorry to put that image in your head), and noticed I had a missed call from area code 213 — which I know is in Southern California — and a voicemail. Interesting, I thought.
I listened to the message, and it was just a couple of guys talking in a car. It was muffled, and I couldn’t make out most of the words. The radio was playing, some kind of all-talk format, and these guys were just chit-chatting and driving along. Clearly, it was a butt-dial.
Curious, I kept listening until the pair arrived somewhere, and began talking with a loud-voiced, over-caffeinated woman. I hit the END button, and tended to the task at hand: Toaster Strudel prep.
But who the hell could it have been? They had my number in their phone, I presumed. And after I polished off my tasty treat (with the enthusiastic help of Black Lips Houlihan), I plugged the phone number into Google. The first page of results didn’t look promising, but on the second page I found a resume, and the mystery was solved.
It was a guy I used to work with — kinda sorta. And he’s one of the biggest assholes I’ve ever met in my life. Yeah, I know, assholes are hardly an endangered species, but this guy was the gold standard. If they ever construct a Mount Rushmore of Miserable Pricks, his pinched face will certainly be represented.
Grrr… Just the thought of him made my blood pressure spike. I’d blocked him from my memory for years, and now here he was again, insinuating himself into my life. Doesn’t he ever clean up his contact list?! I haven’t spoken to that bastard since early 2007.
I emailed one of my old co-workers and told him the story. He wrote back: “Holy crap!! That’s hilarious!! Who the heck butt dials anymore. Really??!! Obviously on top of his game as usual.”
And last night while I was at work his ass called me again. He left another marathon message, and I listened to the first couple of minutes. He was speaking baby-talk to a yappin’ dog. He routinely made women cry inside their cubicles, and probably a few men as well, but he was loving the hell out of that little mop dog. And so it goes…
I need to call it a day now, so I’ll turn it over to you guys. Do you have any history with butt-dialing, or text messages that went to the wrong person, or any similar electronic disasters? If so, please tell us your story. Use the comments link below.
And I’ll be back tomorrow.
Have a great day, my friends!
Now playing in the bunker
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Jay Horowitz, Mets PR – “The Barry Bonds of Butt-Dialing”
Patty in Cleveland says
How lame do you have to be to keep someone as your contract for 6 years that you have not been in contact with–he must not have any friends
Bill in WV says
If cutting a fart so loud and vibrant, rendering a phone permanently inoperable, counts as butt-dialing, then I’m guilty.
Root 66 says
My butt knows how to dial my phone better than I do…yeah, this happens to me a lot when I bend over to tie my shoes.
Maybe it’s time to upgrade my coal-powered cellphone!
Bill in WV says
Or, just buy a bigger size pair of pants.
Root 66 says
…or slip-on shoes. Or better yet–Velcro!!
Average Jane says
I’m endlessly grateful that my dad finally got a flip phone because he used to butt-dial me all the time before that.
The 4th Stooge says
No butt-dialing, but we’ve (in the office) apparently been calling this poor retired professor with the same name (and same focus) as another, current professor. I know this guy feels like we’re the most uneducated bunch of hayseeds this side of East Jesus, but damn! You have the same name, you live in the same neighborhood, and the first three numbers of your home phones are the same. I finally killed this one by just straight out asking the “new” guy his info (no, lowly folks on the totem pole don’t get access to important info to quit embarrassing themselves….)
This tool who keeps you in his Contacts is the same reason I deactivated my Facebook Account. Asstards who I never talked to decades ago suddenly want to “friend” me? Get real.
Not a “butt call” but yesterday some robot left us a message that a cat has been lost in our area. It gave the cat’s name, description (which included a paralyzed paw) and a number. They were also offering a $1,000 reward! Which begs 2 questions..
Does anyone have a service like th eone I just described? I never heard of it but it’s pretty cool. And two, if you found someine’s pet, would you take the reward? I couldn’t. Although a grand does sound nice.
Bill in WV says
I’ll allow people to “friend” me on FB, but immediately hide everything they post. Easy breezy.
I do not have this service, or at least I don’t think I do. Maybe it comes with the microchip? I wouldn’t take the reward. It hurts to lose a pet.
Patty in Cleveland says
We have three dogs so the runaways always end up at my house. We corral them and take them home or call the owners to come get them. I always tell them to donate any reward to our local APL.
I butt-dialed my dad a couple weeks, unfortunately while I was in the middle of a drunken rant about a particular person I didn’t like. I said some very not nice things, and I guess he was a little shocked at the way I talk around my friends vs the way I talk around my parents. 🙂
My phone is very sensitive. If I press the wrong buttons unknowingly, I could be calling someone on the other side of the world. I hate it. I have ass dialed before. Luckily, it’s all a bunch of muffled mumbo-jumbo. However, I have accidently text some rather private messages to my best friend that were meant for my boyfriend. Their names follow eachother in my contact list. My fat thumb has very often hit her name instead of his. Now I just make sure I check the name of my contact before I hit “send” Every. Single. Time.
Well, thank oyur lucky stars it was your best friend and not your employer. I don’t think the good doctor or his bitch of a wife would care to know how much you love their huge kielbasa.
Lmao!! Sooo true..however that is just my luck to have happen!
Bill in WV says
I would purposely text the boss(es) a confusing message like “Anal Warts???”.
I’ve always had flip phones to prevent butt-dialing. Once though I had to swap out my phone for a loaner and they gave me a non-flip phone. I proceeded to pocket-dial my own number and had an hour-long message from the inside of my pocket.
I probably am one of those who have numbers of folks I haven’t spoke to in years. Every now and then I’ll go through my contacts and see someone I can’t remember. Those I will delete. I figure if I can’t remember them they likely don’t remember me either. Somehow I doubt I’ll get a call from “Hot Girl in the Lobby” or “Tech Guy from Office Depot”.
Good question – how DOES anybody butt-dial? How is that even possible these days? And I also don’t get why anyone would keep a phone in their back pocket; won’t it break the minute they sit down? Maybe that’s why most of the iPhones I’ve ever seen have cracked screens.
My family (mom, sister, brother) pocket dial me all the time. Phones these days are so sensitive so I guess it’s easy to do. So far I never got to hear some crazy conversation but im waiting for it.
Not Oprah says
I got butt dialed by a person who said we were ‘just friends’ but in hearing the conversation that obviously wasn’t the case. Felt mean but cancelled on our rendez vous.
I remember the days when I had cheap Cricket service. Fifty bucks for unlimited calls and texts but their service area was about a mile. It wouldn’t let you erase a message unless you listened to the whole thing and it prompted you to erase the message. There were times I had a 20 minute ass dialed message I had to let run it’s course.
hot fuzz says
My wife has a BlackBerry and when it’s locked, it asks whether you want to unlock or dial an emergency? ie 911.
Her butt decided that sitting on the couch for a few minutes before leaving for the day was an emergency. The police called her back and said they would send an officer to make sure all was ok. She waited almost an hour and just asked me to handle the cops.. yeah ’cause I’m that smooth…
They sent two lesbians (a guy can fantasize, can’t he?)one lipstick and one butch. And the butch one did not like me at all from the time I opened the door. The one that did the talking was from Australia and was very pretty (cue porn music). I told her what happened, apologised profusely, had them call my wife to make sure she was ok…and then complimented her on her accent, told you I was smooth. None the less, I had two cop cars in front of my house at 8 in the morning (looks like the Fuzz family had a domestic over breakfast… I never liked that guy…always so smooth)…
My brother was butt dialed by his now ex wife as she was in her lawyer’s office for the initial meeting to engage him for submitting a divorce… which was bad enough but then heard things like “let’s wait until he’s off short term disability so he’ll be worth more to you in the settlement”. Charming.
I have the weird feeling I’ve told both of these before so ….I apologise for nothing…
Bill in WV says
Your brother had grounds for having someone “wacked”.
So the geniuses at BlackBerry make the 911 dial a non-settable option? That kind of design flexibility helps explain their violent drop in market share.
911 should never be on speed dial. If you can’t dial three numbers in an emergency, you’re probably beyond redemption.
And I don’t believe you’ve ever addressed any issues about your wife’s butt on these pages, although I think you published the cop story in Penthouse Forum.
hot fuzz says
it’s not even a speed dial – it’s a “feature”.. The phone is locked after a period of activity and gives the options
There’s a physical button (separate from the keypad) you must press to further lock the BB (and also unlock) which prevents butt dials…After my own butt dials, it’s now habit.
Next time I talk about my wife’s butt, it will have to be done a la Scent of a Woman style.. with love and enthusiasm but certainly not PG. WHOOahhh
“911 should never be on speed dial. If you can’t dial three numbers in an emergency, you’re probably beyond redemption.” Omg lmao!
Maybe I’m just boring, but the butt dial thing has never happened to me from either end.
I had a friend butt-dial me one time and heard him describing the breasts on a girl who was running down the street. That was pretty entertaining.
I received a butt dial a couple of weeks ago. My phone was in my shirt pocket, and I heard the tiny voice of Voice Mail Robo Lady. When I looked, I saw that the installation manager at my company had called a minute before. This was odd since it was after 6:00pm, and he keeps construction hours, but whatever. So I called him back, and it soon became clear that he had “managed” to butt-dial me. On an iPhone.
Jeff, you should get a package in your box today.
Check your mail.