On Veterans day afternoon I was relaxing with with the "G-rents" prior to sinking hours of my life into the new Elder Scrolls game which came out that day. We were chatting about nothing in particular when my grandmother asked me to get her some iced tea from the kitchen, and I figured I'd toast a bagel for myself too. While pouring myself a double of Scotch and putting the bagel in the toaster oven, I overheard my grandfather asking my grandmother for a phone number he had her write down earlier. I have no idea why he needs her to do this because directly in front of "his chair" in the living room, sits the omnipresent makeshift TV tray (this thing, to be specific) with his crossword and ALWAYS a pen. Maybe at the time it was under a napkin or his crossword puzzle, perhaps meaning it vanished from existence at that point. She is across the room perched on a couch that really needed to be replaced a decade ago, sitting there looking like a female Archie Bunker crossbred with one the Hutts.
Now, in my opinion the normal thing to do here would've been to get up and fetch the piece of paper with the number, and dial it - but that doesn't seem to be how their minds work. My grandmother, in her Archie Bunker accent, bellows out the number with the power of Pavarotti in order to yell over the already harshly loud baseball game on television.
"TWO." "FOWAH." "SIX." etc... and then he yells back, "I CAN'T HEAYUH YOU." which is then met with, "WHOIY DON'T YA TURN THAT DAEM THING AWF FORRA MINUTE." Another layer of dysfunction is how on the HDTV with the HDTV box I showed them how to use at least twenty times, its still not set to the HD sports channel, although if they can't tell, I guess it doesn't matter. He picks up the remote off his "TV tray" and looking extremely pleased with himself for successfully locating the mute button, triumphantly silences the beast. They begin the interaction again, and he dials.
"YOU MUSTA GIVEN ME THA FAX NUMBA, I'M HEARIN' A WHISTLE AFTER A FEW RINGS." Met with, "YOU PROBABLY DIALED IT WRONG, DID YOU MAKE SHOWAH YOU PRESSED TAWK?" At this point I'm still standing in the kitchen chuckling quietly and trying not to burst out in the laughter. Nowhere at this point does either do anything but repeat the process three more times before perhaps out of blind luck alone, he seemed to phone the place he was looking for... and then him hilariously muttering "Idiot." when they put him on hold.
What I suspect the issue was, at least after the television was muted, was that my grandfather has a habit of pressing numbers on a keypad way too quickly. I've been out with him several times when he goes to use his ATM card (which I taught him how to do a couple years ago) and after getting the swipe correct on the third try, he then feels the need to punch in the numbers super fast and ends up screwing up the pin. "Wrong pin, sir." "Ah, shit..." and the ordeal of swiping the card in the correct fashion begins once more. He gets an A in my book for catching up with the times though, and now he curses old bitches ahead of him in line who go for the archaic checkbook just like us younger bastards would. Aaand my original point being, he doesn't take his time to look and see if he's punching in correct numbers on a keypad, so the three wrong numbers were perhaps due to simple elderly error...
...and the best part is, we all get to look forward to this!