Saturday night slash Sunday morning, I was snoozing away as usual when my phone rang. I picked it up. The clock said 2:36 am, and it was a private number. I did not answer it because I don't make a habit of talking to incredibly rude people that I don't know.
About 15 seconds later, my phone rings again. This time, I grab it and angrily answer, "Hello?"
There is a 6 or 7 second moment of silence that indicates the caller is a telemarketer who called me not once, but twice. At 2:36 in the morning.
A man says to me, "Hello?"
I say, "It's fucking 2:30 in the morning!"
I know that I actually said that, word for word, because I immediately felt my heart start racing at the thought that I just used the eff word in a conversation with a telemarketer. I live dangerously.
I wait for his reply. After a moment it comes: "Hello?"
I say, "Don't call me again" and hang up.
He didn't call me again.
It took me an hour and a half to fall asleep again, and I think it took Andrew about the same time.
Oh and also, it was the night before Andrew was running a half Ironman. I've heard sleep isn't all that important for that anyway.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Are you happy with your long distance service?
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