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May 24, 2003
Strike That... Reverse It
If I happened to believe in hell (Which I don't, I really don't), I'm pretty sure that that's where I'd be headed after the next 70+ years. You see, that crazy string of phone calls is coming from some telemarketing place that absolutely has to keep trying back for Jennifer, no matter what.
"This is really just a courtesy call," a younger woman informed me. Riigght... As if calling someone repeatedly throughout the night is supposed to be "courteous." She sounded as though she'd just downed a gallon of straight expresso--much too cheery and wired for someone who makes a living dialing random phone numbers and getting recievers slammed in their ears. "We're supposed to inform her that she's elligible for a sweepstakes prize: an all-expenses paid vacation, and a money package!"
Whoopee.
"Well, can't I just tell her all of that? She isn't here, and I don't think you're going to be able to reach her for a while."
"I'm sorry, but the company insists that we talk to Jennifer personally. We'll just try her again later, okay? Thank you, and have a nice day."
Yeah, right.
This means all out war. I tried being nice and courteous to these people, and where did that get me? That's right, nowhere. Telemarketers are vicious, spineless people, I tell you. I mean, next to being George "Dubya" Bush, it's one of the worst jobs in the world. Unfortunately, my bad feelings towards them didn't stop them from calling again. I figured there was no point in playing nice with these people, so when the called three more times after I wrote my last entry today, I didn't hold anything back.
"Hello?"
"Hello, may I speak to Jennifer, please?""She isn't here right now... Who is this?"
"Well, this is Walter, your friendly telemarketer guy from [Insert gay communications company name here]. Do you have any idea when she'll be back?"
"No, I'm sorry. Jennifer died," I said quickly, and then hung up the phone. That oughta stop 'em, I thought. I felt glorious and hideous at the same time. Don't get me wrong, it was a good feeling. I just wasn't so sure I should have been enjoying it as much as I was. I tried not to worry about it too much though, going back to bed and thinking about the next smart ass thing I was going to say when the called in the next thirty minutes.
...Only they didn't call back. I waited and waited, and even fell asleep before realizing that I hadn't heard the phone ring in a good three hours. Have they gotten the message and realized that I can't stand them calling our room anymore? Do they really think that Jennifer's dead? Why should I care if Jennifer's dead or not, anyway? And what about the all-expenses paid vacation? Who's going to get that if Jennifer's supposedly dead? Certainly not me.
Oh God, I'm so (not) going to hell.
Today's Soundtrack: "All That I Can Say," Mary J. Blige
Best Part of the Day: I don't even know anymore. I'm too worried about letting that vacation go to waste.
posted at 4:10 p.m.
