Scrooge

Let me just say up front that I do not condone what G did, but it is blog-worthy, so here you go.

There is a very persistent local newspaper that we used to subscribe to, years ago.  The past couple of years, every two weeks or so, a telemarketer will call our house trying to get us to subscribe again.  The thing is, they always call at like 9:00 at night - even on weekends!  G always tells them no, always asks them to take us off their call list, and they always promise that they will, that this is the last call from them.

Well, Scrooge has had it.  The other night the phone rang at 9:00 and G goes - HA!  WATCH THIS!  All I could do was hold my breath and try to prepare for the coming wrath.  This was what I heard:

"No, we're not interested.  And you know what?  Look in your notes - see how many times we've told you we're not interested?"

"See how many times I've asked to be taken off your call list?"

"Nope!  That's what the last guy said and I don't believe you, so guess what!  If you want to chat, let's chat!"

"You know what totally sucks?  It's 9:00 at night and you're at work and I'm not.  I'm chilling and watching tv.  That really sucks for you."

"And you know what else?  If you don't stop calling me?  The next time I see one of your paper racks?  I'm going to PEE IN IT."

At this point he had cracked himself up so much that he just hung up.  I told him he either crushed that poor soul on the other end of the line, or he gave her a story that she'll regale her family with over Christmas dinner.

Either way, I don't think they'll be calling us again.

Merry Frakkin Christmas.