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.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
AMEN TO THAT. Don't call me we'll call you!
I rarely drop the F- bomb either but when I do ,it usually shocks whoever is near me .Ususally it is frig which loses impact during the heat of the moment .Sometimes it just pops out of my angel lips unexpectedly just like yours did .
Telemarketers. F*ck them, and the people who employ them.
Hope I don't appear too "on the fence" with that opinion.
F Bomin' A Bob!!!
Those effers. Eff them all.
I have call display... if I don't know you're number, I ain't answering the phone. Eff you, meet my answering machine - sell it whatever the eff you want... now eff off! :)
Milky
Post a Comment