The Lunenburg County Bugler’s top columnist shakes his fist and rants about all the things that would get him fired if he wrote about it in the Lunenburg County Bugler.
I hate phone calls! Sometimes I pick up the phone and the first thing I hear is some guy chirping “Hi! How are you?” Not “Hello, Randy here!” or “Can I speak to Eddie McMayonnaise please?” like normal people do. He doesn’t even introduce himself. A stranger has called me to enquire about my well-being. Is he a stalker? I hope it isn’t that stinky guy that sat next to me on the bus yesterday. I was hoping my stalker would be female. Or at least use deodorant. Pah!
So I’ve got this nameless weirdo on the phone asking me how I am. I guess I’m supposed to be polite and say “Fine! And you?” and then we can finally get on with the conversation. Supposing I’m not fine? Or feeling sarcastic? Maybe I should say “I’m feeling really horny right now…” and see where that gets me. If the caller is the tax office or my new editor, even better.
The phone always rings just as I’m sitting down to eat dinner, of course. The other night, I received one of those ghastly telemarketing calls. Some idiot who called himself “Jeff” but sounded more like “Sanjeev” started droning on about reward cards and overdrafts from some dodgy-sounding bank…
“We offer a fixed term low interest loan and sir we just need your date of birth and car registration number to set up an account right now sir and we also offer a high interest fixed savings account for your cat and we just need your social insurance number and a list of your freezer contents and sir we can set up this account now…”
Jeff/Sanjeev wouldn’t take no for an answer so I put the phone down on him. He called back five minutes later and continued his pitch as if nothing had happened! I put the phone down again. He called back again to enquire why I had put the phone down on him! What?
So I moved house. Ha!
Ohhhh I’m so angry! I’m off to tear down to a child’s treehouse. CYA!