The Phantom Phoner Part 2: The Phantom Faxer

Remember my old friend The Phantom Phoner? Who kept phoning my house at stupid o’clock, and then failed to actually be on the other end of the phone when I finally stopped shrieking to Terry that SOMEONE HAS DIED, OMG! and picked the thing up?

Well, turns out he has an accomplice. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, meet The Phantom Faxer.

Actually, you should probably hope to God that you never do meet The Phantom Faxer, otherwise, you, too, will be forced to jump screaming from your bed at 6.30am in the morning, and scramble for the phone in the certain knowledge that, once again, someone has died. When you actually reach the phone, though and pick it up (an act complicated by the fact that there are TWO phones side by side on the same desk, both connected to different lines, and at 6.30am they both sound the same to you), you will be greeted with the infuriating BEEP! BEEP! of a fax machine.

And then you will hurl the phone through the window, raise your fist to the sky and declare that as God is your witness, you will not rest until you have tracked down that Phantom Faxer (and possibly also his Phantom Phoning Friend) and stuck his fax machine in a place where the sun don’t shine. Then you will crawl back into bed and sleep until almost 10am, which will suck because really, you should’ve got up at 7:30, but you were so shaken by the whole experience that the "five more minutes" you promised yourself to help you calm down turned into, whoops, a whole lot more than that.

So, that was my morning. How’s yours going?

This was not, of course, the first time that the Phantom Faxer had struck. It was, however, the first time he/she/it had struck in the wee small hours, though, as previously TFF has restricted himself to calling two or three times during the day. The ass.

Anyway, I’ve Googled The Phantom Faxer’s number, and it turns out that other people have been having the same problem, with some of them receiving the calls at even earlier hours. And given that the Phantom Faxer sees nothing wrong with terrifying me in the early hours of the morning, I see nothing wrong with publishing his/her/its number here on my blawg: it’s 01142 838840. If you, too, have been targeted by TFF and have found this entry having Googled the number: let’s band together and fight the sucker. United we stand, divided we continue to be woken up by a fax machine, and that’s just not right.

As soon as I get access to a fax machine of my own, I think I will do a bit of faxing of my own. At 3am, natch…