Woah There

Today, I spoke on the phone with the Nastiest Woman Alive. I had to call another federal agency to check whether this guy had done something so I could check off a box. I innocently dialed the number listed on my form and asked to speak with him. The woman who answered was like “This is not his personal cell phone!!!” I was like I’m sorry, do I sound like a prostitute? And in any case, are you his wife? Is this how you always answer your work phone?

So I said “I’m calling from the US Dept of Miracles, Office of Very Important Programs and I need to find out if one of his employees has done the thing he was supposed to do.” And she said “THIS IS A BUSINESS PHONE!!!” Really? Is it? Then maybe you should ACT PROFESSIONAL WHEN YOU ANSWER IT???? What is it you imagine a business phone is USED for? And are you, by any chance, on work release from the local insane asylum??

So I told her that, in fact, I was also calling from a business phone for a business purpose and could she possibly give me the number of someone who could provide me with the information I needed since she obviously did not have it. So she did. Then I asked her what her name was, and how to spell it, and what her supervisor’s name was, and how to spell that, and what his phone number was, and if he was in at the moment. And she started to say something nasty again and I was like “Look, I’m sorry if you’re having a bad day, but I’m just trying to do my job, and that means I need to hang up now.” Click.

What a nasty bitch! I couldn’t believe it! And she works for the very crappiest, lowliest agency there is (think: x-ray machines) so I cannot imagine where she developed that attitude. I got HIVES from having to talk to her! HIVES!!! That means I could sue her for intentional infliction of emotional distress, right?! Maybe I will if class tonight is really boring.

Gunners Off The Starboard Bow

Who the hell are these people who come to class knowing all the answers to the professor’s questions? And where do they find them? And what are they doing in my class? I come to class to learn what the answer is. If I knew the answer on my own, I wouldn’t need to take a class. I guess they paid for the class because they have a lot of disposable income and no friends to spend it on? That would also explain why they have so much free time to spend memorizing obscure portions of the Treasury Regulations on the off chance that the may one day be called upon to recite them in my class? Maybe they come to class to make me feel stupid. Well I’ll tell you what, smartasses, you talk a good line, but you must be damn stupid, or else I wouldn’t have gotten such good grades last semester. So you can take your Subchapter K and suck it.

For what it’s worth, I’m thinking it tastes briny, like pickles.