oooops!
Today I woke up too early, so decided to take the bus to work. When I got to work, I
checked my email, only to find an email that had been sent Friday afternoon,
instructing me to go to the new customer's location in Herndon. Um, no can do.
While I could take the Metro to the bus to another bus to the new location, there's
no bus route back home from there. And I could take the bus home and drive to
the new location, that would be a 125 mile trip, and couldn't commence until the
afternoon buses start running in a few hours.
After staggering home after work, the phone rings. It's vvalkyri, asking where I am. I suddenly realize tonight's the night I was gonna have dinner with her and marycatone, 4 miles from where I was working.
Then the phone rings. Telemarketer.
Then the phone rings. Telemarketer.
Then the phone rings. Telemarketer.
Then the phone rings. Telemarketer.
Then the phone rings. Telemarketer.
Then the phone rings. Telemarketer.
Then the phone rings. Paid solicitor looking to raise donations for police beneficent pooba volaré fund.
Paid Solicitor: we'll send you a 2007 police sticker. You put it on your back window to show your supportthat you're a total sucker.
Me: What are you wearing?
PS: What?
Me: What are you wearing?
PS: What?
Me (adopting Peter Lorre accent for no good reason): What are you wearing?
PS: Um, A gold level donation is $$$, what amount are you comfortable with?
Me: I'll donate some body oil!
PS (adopting weird southern accent for no apparent reason): What?
Me: I can donate some nice soft body oil, on your nice soft skin!
PS (thick southern accent): That's really disgusting. I don't wanna listen to this. I gotta go. *clik*
I admit, I can't bring myself to do this to the people soliciting for breast cancer research, as some of them just might actually be legit. But I did tell the mortgage people I have a 3% mortgage, let's see 'em try to top that!
After staggering home after work, the phone rings. It's vvalkyri, asking where I am. I suddenly realize tonight's the night I was gonna have dinner with her and marycatone, 4 miles from where I was working.
Then the phone rings. Telemarketer.
Then the phone rings. Telemarketer.
Then the phone rings. Telemarketer.
Then the phone rings. Telemarketer.
Then the phone rings. Telemarketer.
Then the phone rings. Telemarketer.
Then the phone rings. Paid solicitor looking to raise donations for police beneficent pooba volaré fund.
Paid Solicitor: we'll send you a 2007 police sticker. You put it on your back window to show your supportthat you're a total sucker.
Me: What are you wearing?
PS: What?
Me: What are you wearing?
PS: What?
Me (adopting Peter Lorre accent for no good reason): What are you wearing?
PS: Um, A gold level donation is $$$, what amount are you comfortable with?
Me: I'll donate some body oil!
PS (adopting weird southern accent for no apparent reason): What?
Me: I can donate some nice soft body oil, on your nice soft skin!
PS (thick southern accent): That's really disgusting. I don't wanna listen to this. I gotta go. *clik*
I admit, I can't bring myself to do this to the people soliciting for breast cancer research, as some of them just might actually be legit. But I did tell the mortgage people I have a 3% mortgage, let's see 'em try to top that!