Reading and commenting upon a saucy post by Monmouth this weekend brought back memories of an incident which occurred at my then workplace a few years ago.
I had recently been in a local newspaper article, featuring an upcoming event we were holding. A book fair, to be precise. A local photographer duly came out to take a publicity shot and as everyone else moved quicker than I did, hiding themselves in cupboards and lavatories, it fell to me to pose on the lawns, surrounded by piles of books. I looked very bookish myself, my hair tied back in a sensible knot, my glasses perched on the end of my nose. Beneath the picture they put a caption with my name and the office number if anyone wanted to donate books.
A day or two after the picture had been published I walked into the office to find a couple of my colleagues already there, stood around the telephone and looking aghast. "Morning!" I said, slinging my bag and coat onto my chair. They looked at each other and then looked at me. There was something going on. "What?" I said.
"You'd better listen to this," and they hit play on the answerphone.
"...Hello Luka," said a man's voice. "I've been looking at your picture in the local paper. You've got really big....glasses."
OK, I thought, could be someone I know, having a laugh.
He went on.
"I want to bend you over that pile of books and fuck you up the arse and then make you suck the shit off my bell end."
So, not much in it for me then.
The answerphone went silent. I was looking aghast too, now. It was a popular look just then.
We went into amateur detective mode. The message had been left overnight so we dialled 1471 to see when the last call had been received. It had been around 11pm and the number was not witheld. When the police checked it out, it turned out to be a phone box in the middle of the countryside. I had visions of some sad git telling the missus he was just taking the dog for walk before bed and then stopping off in the phone box for a bit of telephonic abuse. What seems most odd to me is that he was not put off by the fact there was nobody there and took the time to leave his obscene phone call on the answerphone! Many people are fazed by answerphones and can't think what to say, or stammer and stumble, but not this guy. He may have hideously unsexy fantasies but I can't fault his confidence.
Sadly we never found out who it was, and that was the only call he ever made. (To me, anyway - perhaps he trawls the local paper every week so that he can say rude things to the volunteers at Help the Aged or talk about his cock to the Lady Mayoress).
We are all very aware of the perils of giving out personal details online but it is easy to forget that the offline world requires a similar degree of caution. It also demonstrates that nutters are everywhere and despite the best efforts of the nanny state in trying to eradicate everything from gory games to cartoon porn you just can't stop the truly determined loony from getting their kicks somewhere.