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My Mystery Caller

But could I keep him hanging on the phone?


Published by: Karen Armstrong and Helen O'Brein
Published on: 11th March 2010

Who’d have thought the spotty teen who got straight A’s at school, who was bullied for being a boffin, would end up doing this for a living! We’ve all done some rotten jobs – packing fruit, cleaning loos. But when it pays well, it’s hard to say no.
But this really took the biscuit… Closing my eyes, I braced myself for another sex-starved bloke. No, I’m not a prostitute, or lap dancer. I’m a presenter on TV phone-ins for Babe TV. And I do it topless!
While most decent folk were asleep, I was taking late-night calls from some very lonely men.
How I got here is the story you’ve heard hundreds of times. The sweet girl who moved to London and couldn’t make enough money from waitressing and bar work. I needed the cash because I was desperate to do a nutrition course, but couldn’t afford the fees. Then my flatmate Amanda, 24, said I could earn a fortune working for one of the girlie TV stations. ‘Just talk dirty to a load of old pervs,’ she said. ‘It’s easy.’
‘What exactly do I do?’ I asked.
‘Well, you have to be topless, and just chat live on air,’ she said.
‘No way,’ I snapped.
‘Jennifer, you can earn £100 an hour,’ she laughed.
‘Now it doesn’t sound so bad,’ I grinned. Amanda promised she’d get me an audition with the station boss. He liked me, and offered me the job on the spot.
Now, standing in a TV studio wearing a red G-string, I wasn’t so sure I’d made the right decision.
And my first caller was buzzing through. ‘You look cracking,’ an old man rasped.
‘Thanks,’ I blushed.
‘Say something sexy,’ he said.
Suddenly, my mind went blank. ‘I-I want to kiss you,’ I stammered.
I could see my boss with his head in his hands. ‘I’d like to… kiss you… all over?’
Now I could see my boss doing mock strangling gestures around his throat. Then he started slashing the air with his hand, telling the producer to cut the call. ‘Thanks for calling,’ I said, hurriedly.
I was going to be out on my ear. ‘Jackie!’ my boss yelled.
‘Jennifer,’ I said.
‘Jennifer, crank it up 100 notches, and you might stand a chance of holding on to your job,’ he sneered.
‘Okay.’ I had to raise my game.
Thumbing through the newspaper the next day, the sexy cartoon captions caught my eye.Then it hit me. I could read out the captions to my callers.
Filled with confidence, I cut the cartoons out of the newspaper and took them to work with me.
So, if John from Newcastle wanted to talk dirty, I could play him at his own game. Soon, the callers were putty in my hands. I started getting the most calls.
And I was raking it in. Nothing could stop me now… Well, until a guy called Ben rang me live on air. ‘I know you probably get this all the time, but I think you’re beautiful,’ he said.
Yes, I did get that all the time. I wasn’t going to give this bloke 10 out of 10 for originality. But there was something about him I liked. He didn’t sound like your average saddo.
‘Put your top back on, I just want to talk to you,’ he said. ‘I’m Ben.’
A bloke telling me to put my clothes on? That never happened! ‘I’d love to meet you,’ Ben said.
‘But I get that a lot,’ I replied. ‘What makes you so special?’
‘I think you’re much better than this,’ he said. ‘Please meet me?’
‘I-I don’t know…’ What was it about him that made me flustered?
Then something caught my eye. My boss was making those slashing gestures across his neck again. ‘I’m sorry,’ I blurted, hanging up.
He called again the next day. ‘I’m not a weirdo, we’ve got a mutual friend, Michael.’
Click. He’d been cut off.
‘Jennifer, men pay £1.50 a minute to talk to you, not to listen to this idiot who’s obsessed with you,’ my boss yelled.
That night, I got a text from Michael. Someone called Ben wants your number? he’d written.
Okay, give it to him, I text back.
Within minutes, my mobile rang. It was Ben! ‘Please take a chance and come out with me,’ he asked.
‘Okay,’ I laughed. I’d at least give him 10 out of 10 for persistence.
The next day, we went for dinner. He was 30 and worked as a personal trainer and security guard.
‘I know it was a little weird, how I got in touch,’ he said. ‘I’d got in from the pub, was flicking through the telly, and there you were.’
I smiled, gave a little shrug.
‘You were gorgeous, I had to phone in,’ he added.
Within two weeks, we were in love, and had moved in together. There was just one matter spoiling things. My job. ‘You don’t need the money. I’ll look after you.’
‘No, I’ll pay my own way,’ I said. But at work I was reconsidering…
‘You look filthy, I want to…’ a caller panted. I thought of what Ben said earlier: ‘You’re better than this.’
And you know what… I was. ‘Stuff this!’ I said. ‘I quit!’
‘No, Jennifer, you’re the best we’ve got,’ my boss pleaded.
‘Tough,’ I shrugged. I’d have to find another way to pay for college – at least I was happy with Ben.
Eight months later, he proposed on holiday in Tenerife. ‘I want to be with you forever,’ he said.
I’m doing my college course now. Ben helped me pay for it.
I’m glad he had the guts to ring me up. He’s my soulmate, and I know I can call on him for anything. Jennifer Keellings, 24, Loughton, Essex
Jennifer Keelings, 24, Loughton, Essex