Clearly, it's my fault you're an idiot

We don't get prank calls as often as you'd think. I guess kids have ways of tormenting people these days other than getting pizzas sent to their house. (Like killing them over MySpace.) But it does happen, and so we have a few safeguards.

Okay, one safeguard: caller ID. When someone calls us, we make sure to ask for their phone number, and we make sure it matches the number that shows up on the caller ID.

Sometimes, customers will give us a different phone number -- say, their home phone when they're calling from a cell. I have to ask them to give us the number they're calling from, which they do, and life continues.

Then, we have tonight's contestants on Who Needs to Have a CAT Scan?

"Um, I don't know my phone number."

Do us all a favor. If you're over the age of eight and don't know your own phone number, jump into a vat of acid.

The very special ones, though, are the assholes who get angry at me because they don't know their own number.

"Well, this is the only phone number I have. I don't know the other one. What's the damn problem?"

You, lady. You're the problem.