The early 1980s gave us a famous song named after a phone number: “867-5309”. Even if you do not remember the early 1980s, you are probably familiar with the song.
The song was alternatively known as “Jenny”. Often the song was identified with both names: 867-5309/Jenny.
In the song, a male narrator describes his obsession with a woman named “Jenny”, whose phone number (867-5309) was written on a wall, presumably in a men’s room. (That was a common prank back in the 1970s and early 1980s—writing random women’s names and phone numbers on the walls of men’s rooms. Don’t ask me why.)
Tommy Tutone is the name of the musical act that performed 867-5309.
Tommy Tutone is not a single artist, but a California-based group. The original lineup of Tommy Tutone was formed in 1978. The band still exists today. Tommy Tutone released six studio albums between 1980 and 2019. But the band owes most of its name recognition to 867-5309.
867-5309/Jenny was released on November 16, 1981. By the end of the following year, everyone with an FM radio had heard it.
867-5309 was, and remains, a cultural phenomenon. Not everyone was pleased about the song’s fame, however. After the song became popular, homeowners who happened to have been assigned the number began receiving prank phone calls. Many changed their numbers. Some even unplugged their phones in desperation.
Still others went out of their way to acquire the suddenly famous seven digits. Now that the initial fervor over the song has long since died down, this is the more common trend. It would probably be difficult—if not impossible—for you to obtain 867-5309 as your personal phone number. But your odds will increase in less populated areas, and as the time between the heyday of the song and the present year continues to grow.
In late 1981, I was in the eighth grade in Cincinnati, Ohio. One morning—it must have been a few weeks before the Christmas holidays—I heard a girl in my homeroom say my name. When I turned around, she had a smile on her face. I sensed good things ahead.
I’ll call her Denise. This is not her real name—but Denise is not too far from her real name, either. Denise is, moreover, a very typical name for a 13-year-old Gen X girl in 1981.
“There’s a girl who’s noticed you,” Denise informed me. “She wants to go out with you. She wants you to call her.”
This was not exactly what I had been expecting, but I was game.
“Who?” I said. “What’s her name?”
“Jenny,” Denise said.
I should have been suspicious at this point—or at least skeptical. In the junior high microcosm in which Denise and I both lived, there weren’t many strangers. It would have been difficult to imagine a scenario in which an unknown girl would have noticed me, and sought out Denise as an intermediary.
But I was a 13-year-old boy in the full flush of puberty. When you are a young male in that state, hope springs eternal.
At this point Denise produced a slip of paper. I unfolded the paper. In Denise’s feminine cursive was the name “Jenny” and the phone number 867-5309.
Did I start laughing aloud at the joke? Did I rage at this Lucy-pulling-away-the-football, Charlie Brown moment?
Not exactly. Had nothing else been explained to me, I probably would have called the number and asked for “Jenny”.
But Denise was unable to control her laughter any longer. She burst into giggles.
“Jenny!” she prompted. “Eight-six-seven, five-three-oh-nine! Don’t you get it?”
***
But I didn’t get it, as you may have gathered. In late November or early December of 1981, I hadn’t yet heard the song.
I can be forgiven for this oversight, given that it was still late 1981. The song didn’t really hit its stride in the US market until early 1982.
In the meantime, I had ruined Denise’s joke. She explained to me that there was no Jenny, that the name and the phone number were based on a pop song.
“Oh,” I said.
I was mildly disappointed. But something had told me at the outset, perhaps, that something was up.
Which brings us to the next question: What did I learn from this?
Lessons Learned
Two things.
The first lesson I learned was that if a proposition sounds too good to be true, then it probably is too good to be true.
Fast-forward 40-plus years. I often read news reports about men falling prey to romance scams. This usually happens when a relatively plain man is approached on the Internet by an improbably beautiful young woman from Azerbaijan, Serbia, China, or some other faraway location.
She gradually gains his trust, and eventually convinces him to invest in cryptocurrency—always through a “special” website, that only she knows about. Then his money disappears, along with the beautiful woman on the Internet.
Similar versions of this scam have been targeted at women. In this case, an improbably attractive man is used as the “bait”.
Many of the people who fall for the online romance scams are well-educated. But for whatever reason, they never acquired a healthy sense of skepticism.
I learned about the need for skepticism in 1981, in my 8th-grade homeroom. I am occasionally approached on Facebook by unknown individuals representing themselves as attractive young women. When this happens, I always block them, and I think about “Jenny” in 1981.
The second lesson I learned is: don’t take yourself too seriously. At some time or another, each of us is going to find ourselves the object of someone’s practical joke. Or we may be deceived when the motive is something other than humor. This will happen to you. When it does, dust yourself off, learn the appropriate lessons, and move on.
The goal is simply to avoid playing that role too often. A healthy sense of skepticism is one of the primary tools you can employ, to avoid playing the dupe.
Postscript: What about Denise?
Denise and I are still loosely in contact via Facebook. A few years ago, when we were both already in our fifties, I mentioned this incident to her and asked if she remembered it. She claimed not to recall the conversation or her joke, and I believe her.
Nor do I bear any ill will for that long-ago prank between two 13-year-olds, disappointed though I was at the time. In the many years since then, I’ve amply benefited from the lessons learned.
-ET