Tuesday, February 21, 2012
It's begun! Late this year...I thought they had migrated to Florida, but alas...the pitter patter of little hairless mice tootsies tap dancing across the terminally mildewed and dirt saturated carpet that no one in their right mind would ever set a bare foot upon without the dreaded possibility of the charge of a billion bacteria entities and all their cousins scampering up ones leg in a feeding frenzy, has begun at THE JOB. I'm the executioner of these little angel faced fluff balls of destruction.
Such innocence, thinking that no one would ever notice when the office copier gave up the ghost after the wires within it were chewed to smithereens and a bedroom was set up for all those babies that would come. Perhaps they should have been a bit more discreet with the pooh trails and all that chewed up shredded copy paper scattered about. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps...I could go on and on and on...but when the machine innards are pulled out, and the repair man is waving his arms running down the road yelling the copier has given birth to a multitude of hairless little munchkins, well...you know the outcome for those clueless sweet faced tikes is going to be bad...very, very bad.
I am the keeper and protector of the new office copier. I inherited the drudge, because no one else will step up to the plate. No one is fazed by losing a second machine to the same fate as the first...no one except little ole idiotic me. So...each day rolls out before me...a day of empty traps and relief, or a day of many oh's as traps are vacated and refurbished. Each winter I settle down with my family of termites in my crud encrusted office armed with a new stash of shiny spring traps, disposable latex-free gloves and a very large jar of extra crunchy Skippy super chunk peanut butter which is sadly, mouse approved eats, and wish summer would hurry up and get here.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Who was that on the phone that you talked to for the last ten minutes?
Oh...someone was trying to sell me a bridge in Brooklyn.
A bridge in Brooklyn? Why didn't you just hang up on them?
Well...you know...you never know when a bridge in Brooklyn might come in handy.
Handy? Handy for what?
Well...you know...the need might come up...you know...for something in Brooklyn...you know...just hedging my bets...you know...covering all bases.
We need to leave now or we'll be late for the next movie. Hang up the phone and let's get going.
Shhhhh!!!!! I can't talk to you and...you know...the Calgon Whole House Water Softener System guy at the same time.
The Calgon Whole House Water Softener System guy? Why the hell have you been talking to the Calgon Whole House Water Softener System guy for the last 15 minutes?
You know...to soften the water in our whole house.
We can't afford to soften the water in our whole house with a Calgon whats-a-ma-call-it.
Well...you know...you never know when we'll be able to down the road...you know...good to get all the facts ahead of time.
Hang up and let's get going!
Did you remember to bring along that free movie ticket?
Yep, just after I set up an appointment next Tuesday at 7:30 in the evening to have...you know...the Calgon Whole House Water Softener System Guy talk to us.
That sounded like a sales person you were talking to on the phone for the last five minutes. Was it?
Come on, babe...this time we get something for free...all you have to do is listen...you know...to the Hoover salesman presentation, and we get three rooms of carpets cleaned for free.
What do you mean all I have to do?
I set the appointment for 2:00 Saturday afternoon, and...you know...I'll be in Oak Ridge that day at a shooting match. Piece of cake for you...you know.
You trader...what about the Calgon guy?
The Calgon guy? What about the Calgon guy?
He gave us a 45 minute talk and a complicated water demonstration...then you said that we would think about it, talk it over with each other, and then call him back later.
And you point is...?
Remember him looking us straight in the eyes and blurting out..."yah right...like you're really going to do that!"
Yah...what a jerk!
I don't want to waste my time talking to the Hoover Salesman about something I have no intention of buying. Why do you always do this to me?
Ah, come on, babe, you know how badly the carpets need cleaning...AND IT'S FREE!
What the...you disconnected my phone call!!! You know...there's something seriously wrong with you...you need help.
Didn't we have an agreement...NO MORE SALES PERSON APPOINTMENTS?
Well...you know...I thought you had gotten over that Russian Hoover sales person who happened to be new to the U.S. and just a bit of a...you know...semi-bully type of guy. You made his life miserable...you know...absolutely miserable. The customer from hell!
I made his life miserable? I had to listen to an hour pitch, and all those adjectives he used to describe the horrendous condition of my yucky ucky carpet; and then he refused to clean the three rooms, put the Hoover back into its box or leave my home until after I purchased that piece of junk...that psycho Russian from hell!
Come on, babe...you're always exaggerating...you know.
Really? You didn't see anything wrong with the fact that he threatened to call the police if I threw his items out the door to get rid of him? That I had to force him to call his boss on his cell phone...that I had to take the cell phone from his hand and tell his boss to get his sales person out of my house NOW!
Well...you certainly made your point...you know...the customer from hell. I wonder what he thinks of the U.S. now. You know...just wondering, sweetie babe.