Mystery Call

I'm at the tale end of a twelve-hour trip to NY. I flew in last night for a screening at the DGA that went really well. During my Q&A, I saw Arthur Hiller in the audience. I ended the evening with a cheeseburger from P.J. Clarks - The best burger in the U.S. (prove me wrong).

Now, I'm at the airport getting ready to fly to Denver for the film festival tonight. My flight was delayed, so I got a day-pass for the Red Carpet Club. I'm just relaxing in there, enjoying the complimentary hot chocolate and pretzels, catching up on email, when the phone next to me starts ringing.

Just so we're clear - Twenty phones in an empty room and the one next to me is ringing. Is this the start of an international adventure? One in which I'm led to a locker with various passports and stacks of foreign currency, I meet a dangerous yet beautiful interpreter that tries to kill me (during sex in a shower), and I have to do that thing where I leap from rooftop to rooftop of a bullet train at full speed. Only one way to find out.

I pick up the phone - It's a telemarketer.

I inform him that this is an airport lounge. He laughs and says he'll take the number out of the database.

New idea. When telemarketer calls me at home, say my phone number is in fact an airport lounge and have my number taken out of their database.

This post originally appeared on my blog at foxsearchlight.com.