Lonely, He’s Mister Lonely

Back in 1999, I worked for a British phone company in the billing department. One day, I got a call from a customer wanting to discuss some phone numbers that had appeared on his bill. I went through security questions and then looked at his bill. I was shocked by what I saw. His monthly phone bill was just over £1,500.00 which, given that my rent for a two-bedroom flat at the time was £450.00, was an astonishing amount. I looked more carefully and found hundreds or perhaps thousands of calls to premium-rate sex lines.

I asked the customer where he wanted me to start, and he only wanted to identify a couple of local rate calls. I found the information he wanted, and he said thank you and hung up.

A colleague saw me with my mouth still agape.

Colleague: “Was that [Customer]?”

Me: “Yes!”

Colleague: “That guy calls every month with the same sort of question, and his bill is always around £1,500.00. All sex lines. It’s amazing. I mean, he could hire a prostitute every day and spend less.”

I never had a customer like that again.