The City of New York will be needing a sixth area code shortly, although Cindy Adams doesn’t think so:
We’ve finally memorized 212 and 718 and 646 and now anyone just across the street will have yet a different three-digit prefix?
Whoever concocted this plan to section off New York City like a pizza is brain-dead. Probably buys his hats at Forest Lawn. Question: What do you call a phone-company executive with half a brain? Answer: Gifted. Which brings me to this phone-company executive who bought 100 bottles of aspirin. And why did he do that? Because he needed the cotton.
Another area code for what? So more 5-year-olds can put their own personal cellphones in their own pencil boxes to bring to Mommy-and-Me class? So more 25-year-olds can Twitter during a sit-down, black-tie dinner party? So more 35-year-olds can discuss their sex life aloud while walking on the street? So more 45-year-olds can annoy a whole theater when they don’t turn off their brain cells and cellphones? So more 55-year-olds can text wives in Connecticut while fondling mistresses on an airplane bound for the Bahamas? So more 65-year-olds in a restaurant can ring their doctors to discuss intimate symptoms of burping, belching and whatevering while the waiter’s serving your veal cutlet? So more 75-year-olds can actually pull out these toys and ask their grandchildren how does this newfangled f—ing gadget work?
Incidentally, she forgot (or never knew) 347 and 917, and 917 has been around since 1992.
If you’re wondering about TEmpleton 8, it was in this general area.