Phonecalls to my Hater

So when I go on holiday I’m going to do things I always wanted to do and couldn’t do in Cyprus. I did it in Vegas, I did it in Tijuana. Now I’m going to do it in Sarajevo. And what am I going to get up to, you may be asking? Get revenge.

Confused? Don’t be. Let me explain. I’m the kind of person who ends up attracting the wrong kind of people. Not necessarily bad people, rather, sociopaths, sycophants (of others), ex-groupies, swingers, Scientologists and randoms who don’t know what they want.

And so I end up with a disproportionate amount of emails, phone calls and texts or people asking odd things. Things that are mostly illegal in places like Iran and Chechnya. Last week, I received a text saying: Hey do u remember me? Would you like to meet up today for some fun?

It fun means bashing the people you hated at school in a giant boxing ring, then sure. If it’s anything else, then no. So I replied diplomatically by saying: Who r u? How the hell did u get my number? No reply. Nothing.

So, when I get to the Balkans, I am going to call this person and all the others who have double crossed me, from every single country, city, village I visit and phone box I pass. They will receive calls from Serbia, Bosnia and so on, that they’ll go mad and wonder who is calling them at 3am (you don’t expect me to call them at convenient time now do you?)

So beware, if you start getting number with a rather strange dialling code, then it could be me, calling you from inner Albania from a phone box in a crumbing village, laughing all night, while you lie there, in your bed, panicking and wondering, who’s out to get you. It could be me. Or it could be the Albanian mafia.