My grandmother’s poor hearing made mincemeat of the obscene caller.
“You want to do what?” she shouted down the line. “You want to stick your what where? You’ve got a very big what? Ready for me? Well, I’ve not ordered anything. Don’t you try delivering anything here. I won’t pay for it, young man. I simply won’t.”
We bit on our knuckles and cried with laughter.
“I’ve already got double-glazing if that’s what you’re after. No, no, I’m not ready for you at all. Whatever gave you that idea? Who is your manager? Fool!” she said, slamming down the phone. “Trying to sell me something but I still don’t know what,” she said, returning to her armchair. “Why do young people always mumble these days?”
And all we could think of was the obscene caller’s escalating frustration.