Before he got himself a reputation for being a humungous nonce in 2012, Max Clifford had a reputation for being a master communicator, but it wasn’t that well-deserved. A hack who was once sent to Max’s office to meet a kiss’n’tell client got a glimpse of his telephone manner in action.
The girl in question was running late, so after about 15 minutes Max called her mobile and left a shirty voicemail. After 30, he called again and left another, even more curt one. After an hour, he completely lost his rag and called a third time, barking “I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU’RE PLAYING AT. I’VE SET THIS UP FOR YOU. THE LEAST YOU CAN DO IS GET TO MY FUCKING OFFICE.”
When she eventually did arrive, Max went ballistic at her, asking why she wasn’t answering his calls. She said she didn’t get any calls. Max told her she did and recited her full phone number for her to hear.
Only, it wasn’t hers.
Cue Max calling the number again to leave one final voicemail: “Hi, I’m really sorry. This is Max Clifford. I don’t know who you are but I’ve left some very abusive voicemails for you. Could you please ignore them?”