Yes I know this subject has been done to death.
But not by me.
So I’m just getting set into the recliner to watch Olympic sports coverage. Remote? Check. Snacks? Check. Phone? Oops. Rrrring! I get up and answer it.
“Hello, I’m A. S. Hole, calling for…” “What are you selling?” “I’m not trying to sell you anything…” I hang up.
About an hour later. Rrrrrrrring! “Hello, may I speak to(my name, horribly mangled, by some guy in an incomprehensible accent )?” “What are you selling?” “I’m not trying to sell…” Again, I hang up.
Damnation. Why do these numbnuts have to unexpectedly get me up out of my comfy chair? Yes, yes, yes, I know that telemarketers are alleged to be human, and to have families they must feed, and being rude to them is like blaming the server for bad food in a restaurant. But I am fast approaching the point where I’m going to start using profanity to these drones, and curse them back to their remotest ancestor.
Lame, I know. But I just gotta vent. Ohh…FUCK!!!
Panting. Thanks, I feel better now.