It was so spontaneous. Here I was, running back and forth to the laundry room, because of having to wash every towel I own, mostly due to the flood in my kitchen the other day (a topic for another post, another day) and my phone rings.
After the five-second wait and me saying "Hello... hello... hello" while my name popped up on the caller's screen, "Hello. May I speak to Mr. or Mrs. -- F*** off!" and I slammed down the receiver. I didn't even give the poor little recent immigrant a chance to mangle my last name. Then again, he might not be an immigrant at all. He might actually be calling from India, where, I understand, a lot of telemarketing jobs have gone lately.
But being the wuss that I am (both my hockey team and my crew at work have giggled on the rare occasions that I dropped the F-bomb"Heh heh, Bob dropped the F-bomb". As saucy as I can be, I just don't cuss a lot) , a few seconds later, I felt bad, and wanted to *69 or whatever it is to call the number that called you, and apologize to Apu Telemarketerapetalon.
I've discussed this here before: Telemarketers are only doing their minimum-wage jobs, trying to make a living. But Dude, if I want to buy something, I'll call you.