I was driving up to Bellingham in miserably slow traffic on Friday watching the snow hit the windshield and listening to the radio. I was incredibly bored and frustrated with the other drivers lack of calm caused by a few snow flakes in the air. The radio show had a call in segment that I thought was interesting so I thought what the hell I'll call in.
I dialed the toll free number and rehearsed in my head what I would say to the DJs. The phone rings and then a guy's voice picked up.
"Want to feel my tight hole with your big throbbing...go ahead and put it in....if you want more, please have your credit card ready...."
Ye Gods I just dialed a gay porn line. I was mortified and couldn't do anything. The recording stopped after announcing they'd connect me to someone. I almost tossed my phone out the car window, but I calmly closed the phone, checked the number and realized that I dialed 800 instead of 877.
I called back with the right number and got a busy signal. My time on the radio was not to be.
It's been three showers since that incident. I still need another one.
"Look, I'm 40, I'm single, and I work in musical theater - you do the math!" - Nathan Lane