A Tale Of Two Garths. Chapter Thirteen. Prank Calls and Podium Diving.

“You do it,” I said to Hung sitting on Claire’s bed with the phone resting on the comforter between us.
“Why do I have to do it?” she asked.
“Because I can’t. I’m the worst prank caller ever! I laugh every time.”
“But it was your idea!”
“Hung, you’re our only hope. You must do this. If not for me, but for your own personal entertainment,” I told her looking at her with utter sincerity. I needed Hung. I needed her badly. Ever since I was a wee child I had been cursed with a terrible prank call laugh reflex. One time when I was babysitting a 7 year old named Bo he suggested it would be fun if we passed the time by making prank phone calls. Being the responsible babysitter I was, I agreed that it was a good idea. After we raided the fridge and played all his parents’ records at high speed so that Elton John’s “Bennie and the Jet’s” sounded like it was actually sang by Alvin and the Chipmunks, we were all over the prank calling thing like hair on a monkey. Problem was, my version of the ever popular “Is Your Refrigerator Running” gag sounding a little something like this.

Ring, ring
*Stacy is already laughing*
Ring, ring
“Hello,” says the voice on the other end.
“Hi,” *giggling* “Um, is your..hahahaha…refr…hahaha
*tears are streaming down my face from laughter*

So as you can see, without Hung this prank was a no go.
“Okay fine, give me the number,” Hung said with a roll of her eyes and a grin on her face.
“You have to act real sexy. Oh and remind him that you are the blonde that he met at the Sunset Tower Hotel last night. This is going to be so funny!” I was already starting to giggle and we hadn’t even started to make the call yet.
“Okay, but you have to stop laughing and don’t look at me because you’re going to make me laugh,” Hung told me.
“Okay, okay,” I told her. “No laughing. I promise. Hehehehe.”
“Stacy,” Hung warned.
“Okay. I’m okay really I am,” I said as I turned my back towards Hung and faced the wall behind me. With Pauly Shore’s number in one hand and the phone in the other Hung began dialing.
“Claire is going to kill us,” she said.
“Oh come on, it’s funny,” I said encouraging our bad behavior.

Ring, ring
“Hey its Pauly, leave me a message.”
“Hi Pauly,” Hung began. “This is Claire from the Sunset Tower Hotel. We met last night. I was with my friend. I’m the blonde girl you gave your number to.”
I was already doomed. The giggles were coming on and they were coming strong. I tried to cough to mask the first one. Hung reached over and hit me in the leg.
“I’ve been thinking about you and wanted to know if you wanted to get together. I’ve been really horny lately and I’m a big fan of your movies.” Oh no she did not just say that!
“Bahahahahahaha!” I laughed as I grabbed the pillow off of Claire’s bed and buried my face in it.
“So what do you say we just cut to the chase and skip all the bullshit,” Hung continued. At this point I was in full on hysterics and not only had tears in my eyes but had fallen off the bed and was rolling around on the floor of Hung and Claire’s bedroom.
“I want you, you want me. So let’s hook up. My number is 818-888-8888. Call me.” And then Hung put the cherry on top by saying in a breathy whisper, “I’ll be waiting.”
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! OH MY GOD!!! That was fucking great!” I told Hung clutching my stomach. My face hurt I was laughing so hard. Hung was now bent over and could hardly breathe howling with laughter.

Later that night Claire came home from work and Hung and I were on the couch in the living room watching TV.
“Hey you guys. What’s up?”
“Nothing,” Hung said in a giggle. Followed by one of my own.
“What have you two been doing?” Claire asked suspiciously.
“Just been watching some TV,” I told her trying not to look at her for fear I would start cracking up.

From there on out neither Hung nor I would go anywhere near the phone when it rang. That way if Pauly called Claire back we didn’t want to be the one to pick it up. But whenever she would pick it up we would run from where ever we were in the house to try and listen in on the conversation to see if our evil plan had worked. Then to top it off every time one of us left the first thing we would ask once we got home was, “Did anyone call today?” It became such an obsession I no longer cared what Garth was doing, I was far too involved in the non-existent Claire/Pauly love affair. But it never happened. Pauly never called. Maybe Hung sounded too horny. Maybe Pauly couldn’t bring himself to go out with a girl who actually liked any of his movies. Maybe Pauly heard me cracking up in the background. What ever it was that prevented him from calling the house was really bringing Hung and me down.
“Pauly’s lame,” she said one night.
“I know. What kind of guy doesn’t want to get laid?”

About a week later my pager went off and I called the number back thinking it was an audition.
“You have reached the Los Angeles County Morgue. We are unable to take your call at this time…” Claire. I hung up the phone and walked into her room and she and Hung were sitting on her bed watching TV with huge grins on their faces.
“The LA County Morgue?” I asked.
“Pauly Shore?” Claire responded.
“Traitor,” I said as I looked at Hung.
“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t take it anymore. She pried it out of me.”
“I’ll get you back,” I warned them both as I walked away.

With the phone wars in full swing the three of us decided it was time to go out and hit up the clubs to blow off some steam. This time Claire had called a group of girlfriends I hadn’t met yet.
“Stacy this is Vanessa, Tina, Barry, and Mandy,” Claire introduced me as I stood there with my mouth open staring at four amazingly beautiful women with great style. . Great, I look like their help “Oh look, that is so sweet of them. They took their maid out with them to a club. We should probably find out what charity they’re promoting so we can donate. You just don’t see generosity like that around these days.” As we drove through LA in Tina’s black BMW I sat in the back seat trying to merge my ass cheeks with her leather upholstery. Now normally I would see Tina and her car and think to myself, Yuppie Scum. But this time I was on the INSIDE of the car and not on the outside of the car making fun of her so I could feel better about not being able to afford such a nice automobile.

As we all walked up to the club men literally parted like the red sea to make way for these women and I followed in my jeans and steel toed Doc’s.
“I’m with them,” I said as I nodded in the direction of one man who looked like he was about to pass out from all the beauty that was currently passing his way. Once inside, the girls took over the dance floor like it was a small unarmed country and they were dropping nukes in the form of hips, lips and heels. Hung and I laid back and just watched the girls in motion. Next thing I knew Claire was on top of a huge podium dancing her ass off. She was grinding and flipping her long blond hair all over the place.
“STACY!” she shouted.
“ME?” I yelled back as I pointed to my chest.
“COME HERE!” she yelled back at me.
“NO WAY!” I said as I shook my head back and forth.
“OH COME ON!” Claire said and motioned for me to join her up on the tiny podium. Hung didn’t help the situation by pushing me towards Claire.
“Thanks Hung,” I said over my shoulder at her. Just then Claire reached down and grabbed my hand and helped me get up on top. From the top the podium seemed much smaller than it did from the ground. At this point I was totally embarrassed and didn’t really want to dance. When I was 21 I would have been all over that podium with my perm blowing in the wind like a White Snake video. But I had changed quite a bit in the three years from 21 to 24 and had become a stoner hippie that wanted nothing to do with podiums or perms. All I wanted to do was get the hell off that podium and get to a nice cold beer and maybe a shot.
“Come on, shake it!” Claire said as she grabbed me and encouraged me to dance. I started moving my hips a little and then got into it a little bit more and then the next thing I knew Claire was falling towards earth with her arms reached out towards me.
“Noooooooo….” I said as I tried to reach out and save her but alas, I missed. Luckily there was a large crowd dancing below our podium and those poor sons of bitches broke Claire’s fall.
“OH MY GOD! ARE YOU OKAY?” I yelled down to her as I tried to scramble off the podium towards her. By the time I got to her she looked pretty pissed.
“I’m so sorry Claire,” I told her trying my best to win back her love while we both were surrounded by people rubbing their heads and still reeling from the shock of having a 5’10 blonde Amazon drop out of the sky and onto their heads.

I tried to make it up to Claire by buying her a drink at the bar. But she was still irritated at me as she drank her Stacy feels like shit so she bought me this drink drink. But before I could feel too bad I overheard two guys on my left.
“Hey dude, that’s the girl who fell off the podium.” Oh, like I don’t feel bad enough. “Twice,” he said.
“Claire?” I began.
“What?” she responded letting me know that she was clearly still pissed at me.
“Have you fallen off the podium before?’
“Yes,” she said with her eyes firmly planted on the floor. “ I fell off a couple weeks ago,” she said really quickly like that was my fault too.

Regardless of exactly what happened (as far as I’m concerned it was all a blur), it is still to this day known as the Big Podium Debate. I say there wasn’t enough room for the both of us on the podium and Claire fell. She insists I pushed her. All I know is I slipped the door guy a $20 to make sure those security videos never saw the light of day. So I guess we’ll never know.

To be continued….

Love it? Hate it? Let me know! Send questions, comments, brownie recipes or random brainfarts to: mrsdiagnosed@yahoo.com


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