There are many reasons why I didn’t get into a Top-10 law school and prank calling during my undergrad days is one of them.
I mean, seriously, what else did we have to do?
In the true spirit of being a freshman and “how college ought to be,” I lived in the dorms during my first year at the University of Florida.
(For all you Gators, this was Trusler Hall… right across from Hume. It had a Blimpie Sub shop in the common area and it was walking distance to the Reitz Union… where we would use electronic funds from our Gator 1 cards to buy booze at the Baja Tortilla Grill – sorry, Mom and Dad!)
It was 2000 and I was fresh out of high school and equipped with important things like body glitter, butterfly hair clips, an AIM screen name, and was “living on the edge” by downloading music illegally on Napster.
In those days, we didn’t have cell phones, social media, or other distractions.
Each dorm room was equipped with a land line. For whatever (dumb) reason, the University published a “phone book” that included the telephone numbers of each student who was living in on-campus housing.
So if you wanted another student’s phone number and that student lived on campus, all you had to do was look up their name in this phone book and viola! you had it.
Our dorm was quite social and I met some of my best friends there, two of which I still see and speak to regularly.
In lieu of doing responsible things like studying and doing homework, we would often gather around each others’ rooms in our pajamas, get fat from Pokey Stix, and prank call the shizzz out of other people, courtesy of this phone book.
Our pranks were so good that they deserve a regular blog feature. I really wish I could make a living out of prank calling.
One prank stands out in particular.
There was a popular and important player on the school’s football team who regularly frequented the bars. Likely why we never won a National Championship under his watch.
I won’t name names (unless you ask me in person, ‘cuz lawyers never put anything damning in writing, yo!) but let’s just say he was quasi-famous and quite. a. big. deal.
One Tuesday after class when we should have been doing responsible things, an entourage of five other girls and I got this player’s phone number from the college directory and dialed.
Backstory: the evening before, we spotted him out at The Swamp restaurant, a bar that was popular to attend certain nights of the week, Monday being one of them.
Ring, ring, ring.
[Imagine the voice of a 1-900 call girl named Krystle:] Hi, is this (name of super important football player?)
Hey… this is really embarrassing but my name is Carly. I had so much fun with you at the Swamp last night. You made me feel so special and I would love to see you again.
[Pretending he had a clue on earth who Carly was:] Oh hey Carly! I had a great time with you, too!
Um…. so I don’t normally do these things because I’m not “that kind of girl” but I would love to see you later today so we can get together… can you meet me on the front steps of the Swamp at 6:00?
Note: it was 5:30 p.m. during this call.
We were shocked at his response. Clearly, he intended on getting some booty.
Alright, see you soon.
We hung up, high-fived, and then waited a few minutes before cramming into my friend’s Hyundai Elantra.
We drove to a dorm located directly across from The Swamp and then laughed our heads off as we witnessed this player standing on the steps at 6:00 sharp, waiting for some chick to arrive who didn’t even exist.
What a schmo!
He paced back and forth, stared at every single girl who happened to walk by to see if she looked familiar, routinely glanced at his watch with each passing minute, before giving up and leaving maybe 20 minutes later.
[Recall: these were the days before cell phones, so he couldn’t call or text “Carly” to find out her E.T.A.]
To this day, we still laugh when someone brings up this dude’s name. Many would say they can’t blame him, but who would seriously meet some girl they didn’t even remember?
We can laugh about this because the answer is likely the latter.
Don’t hate the prankster, hate the prank.