Let Inga Tell You: The secret life of Olof
Inga is on vacation. This column originally ran June 19, 2014.
I’ve known my husband, Olof, for a long time, so it was somewhat of a surprise to learn that he was masquerading as someone named Giselle who does “outcall services.” Fortunately, he’s recently retired, as I do think this could have impacted his security clearance — and not in a positive way.
It’s actually Olof’s retirement that got him into the outcall biz in the first place. On his last day of work, he handed in his company phone, and after a brief but deliriously happy period going cellphone commando, he ultimately wandered into a Verizon office and acquired a new one.
When you get a new phone, you gotta wonder where the number has been before you, especially when you start getting a lot of calls and texts really late at night.
We were initially not sure whether Olof’s phone number was previously owned by someone named Giselle who does — or did — outcall services or whether her number is just really close to Olof’s and the guys who call her are so excited about Coming Attractions that they can’t actually dial.
In our demographic, no one calls you in the middle of the night unless someone has died. Literally the night he got the phone, it rang at 2 a.m. We both sat up in bed, panicked. Olof quickly answered.
Guy in sultry voice: I’m lookin’ to spend some money!
Olof (puzzled): On what?
Guy (pauses): You kiddin’ me, man? (Hangs up.)
One Saturday night a few weeks later, as we were watching an on-demand movie of my selection at around midnight, text messages for someone named Giselle were coming in hard and fast. At first Olof was ignoring them, but I suddenly noticed there was a whole lot of texting going on from Olof’s side of the bed. He showed me his phone.
“Olof,” I said, “I can’t believe you’d rather be a hooker impersonator texting some horny lowlife in the South Bay than watch the adorable romantic comedy your wife picked out.”
His reply: “Is there a question here?”
Transcript from Olof’s Droid:
11:58 p.m. (incoming text): Hey, Giselle, you free?
12:27 a.m. “Giselle”: Baby, I’m never free.
12:29: Ha! I mean you able to come out to Chula Vista?
12:31 “Giselle”: What you got going on?
12:32: Having some drinks and yay. You down?
12:34 “Giselle”: Where to?
12:36: Chula Vista hanging with my boy want some company … cruise over.
12:38 “Giselle”: Dunno. Meet you where?
12:40: (Gives address). House.
12:44 “Giselle”: Just me or should I bring friends?
12:44: You mama. How long?
12:45 “Giselle”: Maybe 30. What should I bring?
12:50: Umm something sexy and your fine self. You are going to be pleasantly surprised. I’d like to see a pic of your face darling. Can you come sooner?
12:54 “Giselle”: Baby, I gotta free up, ya know?
12:58: Where are you coming from girl? I am up. Can I see a pic of your face?
1:01 “Giselle”: Working in La Jolla.
1:05: Ok not too far. If you left now id say about 30 min. Not seeing your phone number so need a pic baby.
1:08 “Giselle”: There’s a link on my ad. Don’t have a pic on my phone.
[Guy is starting to get suspicious.]
1:12: I am not seeing this # as the girl I reached out to, so what ad honey?
1:14 “Giselle”: Where’d you get my #?
1:23: BP [Back Page on Craigslist? Or …?]
1:26 “Giselle”: Yeah, that’s me. On my way.
1:27: Are you sure ... .
Too bad he never got to find out he was actually chatting it up with a male Medicare recipient in La Jolla.
What worried me after the fact was just how good Olof was at this. I mean, “What you got going on?” Not exactly engineer speak. But what I really want to know is: What was he planning to wear?
Inga’s lighthearted looks at life appear regularly in the La Jolla Light. Reach her at firstname.lastname@example.org. ◆
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