Dear Giant Jackass...
You run a small business. I understand this is a challenging and at times thankless task. I totally get that. But since you are running a small business, here's an idea: HONOR YOUR COMMITMENTS.
Remember last Monday when I called you and we had that short, but very clear, conversation regarding my upcoming rental inspection and the fact that I was flying out to Adelaide next Tuesday? And how I talked about Monday being the day that I wished to have your services rendered?
That was because Monday was, in fact, the day I wished to have your services rendered. I don't recall at any time saying to you that I wanted to sit around all day Monday becoming progressively more stressed and irritated waiting for you not to arrive while all the other last minute shit I needed to get done went UNDONE.
Do you know why I don't recall saying that to you? BECAUSE THAT IS NOT WHAT I DESIRED OF YOUR LAWNMOWING SERVICE, ASSHOLE.
Also, repeatedly sending me the same badly composed text (its have to be 2morrow now sorry fell behind) while I frantically try to negotiate with your voicemail because you won't pick up your fucking phone and deal with me directly is pretty poor customer service.
You score minimal points for eventually wising up to the fact that your failure to arrive forced me to set about hiring a mower from a gas station at 4pm with fuck-all daylight left at my disposal. And I do appreciate your apologetic text and promises to be at my house and done by 9am when my cab arrives.
But I swear to fucking Christ almighty...if you are not here in the next fifteen minutes, I am going to have an aneurism. Seriously. Because I am far too much of a control freak to be dealing effectively with this crap on the morning I have to board a tin-can death-machine back home to MY MOTHER.
This is not the day to mess with me, Giant Jackass. It really is not.
No love,
Dragons.
Flisties, I suck at el-jay and owe comments and fic and stuff. Sorry. See y'all in ten days. Be safe and happy.
Remember last Monday when I called you and we had that short, but very clear, conversation regarding my upcoming rental inspection and the fact that I was flying out to Adelaide next Tuesday? And how I talked about Monday being the day that I wished to have your services rendered?
That was because Monday was, in fact, the day I wished to have your services rendered. I don't recall at any time saying to you that I wanted to sit around all day Monday becoming progressively more stressed and irritated waiting for you not to arrive while all the other last minute shit I needed to get done went UNDONE.
Do you know why I don't recall saying that to you? BECAUSE THAT IS NOT WHAT I DESIRED OF YOUR LAWNMOWING SERVICE, ASSHOLE.
Also, repeatedly sending me the same badly composed text (its have to be 2morrow now sorry fell behind) while I frantically try to negotiate with your voicemail because you won't pick up your fucking phone and deal with me directly is pretty poor customer service.
You score minimal points for eventually wising up to the fact that your failure to arrive forced me to set about hiring a mower from a gas station at 4pm with fuck-all daylight left at my disposal. And I do appreciate your apologetic text and promises to be at my house and done by 9am when my cab arrives.
But I swear to fucking Christ almighty...if you are not here in the next fifteen minutes, I am going to have an aneurism. Seriously. Because I am far too much of a control freak to be dealing effectively with this crap on the morning I have to board a tin-can death-machine back home to MY MOTHER.
This is not the day to mess with me, Giant Jackass. It really is not.
No love,
Dragons.
Flisties, I suck at el-jay and owe comments and fic and stuff. Sorry. See y'all in ten days. Be safe and happy.