Tuesday, July 26, 2005

And Cerebus Only Had Extra Heads!

So why is it that the spider loves living behind my mirror?

I really didn't mind too much to start, if he wanted to live inside my driver's side rear-view, that's ok. He might just want to travel and see the world. He might not realize gas is insane, and so I refrain from using my car whenever I can. He might have been kicked out of his home, and as my mirror was unoccupied, it seemed as good a place as any to call his own. And to start with, I didn't mind.

I let him live there, and even felt somewhat bad when I did take my car out places, the wind blowing and ruining the web he left. But he was safe, cozy on the inside of the mirror. Perhaps he wanted groceries for the wife and kids, and was looking to hitch a ride to the store; whyever it was, I really didn't mind.

At first.

I used my car less, he used my car more. He paid for all the gas he used, but that's not why I began to mind. He was seldom seen /or/ heard, that I did not mind. I couldn't get into my car without going through a maze of sticky webbiness, that I did begin to mind. And mind it I did. I gave him warnings, I told him he was being evicted. I tried to make his house less desireable, but he continued to ignore me.

Finally I gave in, I managed to frighten him away, I once again had my car free and clear, no more worries of being attacked.

But of course, I was dumb, I scared him away onto my parking spot. And now I am afraid. I've not been back in much too long, he's probably moved back in.

But then, I suppose he's cheaper than hiring a guard dog.

Saturday, July 09, 2005

Send Me No Flowers

Thursday, July 07, 2005

Salesman of the Year

I really hate when the phone rings while I'm in the middle of dinner. Sometimes it's all better once I answer the phone, and there's somebody there that I wanted to talk to. Or if it was a call announcing that I'd just won a gazillion dollars. But, alas, last night was neither.

Not only was I in the middle of dinner, I was in the middle of a tv show. And of course, the phone started ringing. I figured it wasn't anyone I was wanting to talk to, but I might as well answer it anyway, just in case. But then I heard it. That tell-tale long pause, the wait for someone to actually pick up on the other end.

I hate that pause.

If you're going to be disturbing me in the middle of my dinner, the least you could do is actually be on the phone. But no, I had to wait for someone to actually answer the phone call they placed. Well, ok, maybe it is someone I want to talk to, but they were getting a drink of water. I give him the benefit of the doubt, right up until I hear his voice, and know it's nobody I know.

"I'm not interested."

His 'hello' was all I needed. I wanted to get back to dinner, I wanted to watch my show. I don't care that he hasn't told me anything, I know he's trying to sell something, and telemarketing is the lowest kind of salesperson. So I'm really not interested.

He took it fairly well, at least. He only commented once that he didn't get to give me his sales pitch. It's better than the last telemarketer I got. I had time, so I let her give the entire pitch before telling her I wasn't interested. "Not interested in what?" she asked.

Um, ma'am, if you don't even know what you're selling, I'd reccomend looking for a new job. Something that requires less brainpower.

Of course, if you can find a job that requires less thought, let me know? I might be interested in it too!