It's Official: I look really stupid to teenage boys

I began suspecting this since I began shaving, back in the early 17th Century. Anyway, two teenage boys whom I had earlier chided for horseplay (or perhaps it was hijinx, I forget) came to the desk with an elaborate story of how I really needed to page their friend over the intercom. It involved confusion and danger, though the specifics are already fading in my mind. I reminded them that the library was relatively small and on only one floor, but they persisted. For some reason, most likely to get them away from me, I relented. I picked up the phone and asked what their friend's name was.
"Jack Meehoff," the sincere-looking lad before me said.
To be fair, it took me at least a twentieth of a second.
"Do I look that stupid?" I asked. I was honestly offended. Not that they'd tried to prank me, but because it was such a pathetic and transparent attempt. I wished I'd been a little faster on the draw. I would have said, "You know, I think I saw him with your friend Heywood Jablome."
Oh well. Next time.