Ohhhhh the day I've had. Wait week. And has anyone checked? It's Tuesday.Let's go back; not far just Monday. Getting ready for my vacation, I am looking to board my little "angels". Being finicky, I emailed a posh little establishment and filled out their request form. Of course they want to know Birdie's astrological sign and Winston's turn-ons. I received a phone message that my info was incomplete but they were currently closed due to the holiday, I could call them back and fill in the blanks on MONDAY. Let's pause there. I have caller ID so when I did what they asked...as they INSTRUCTED, I used the number left on my phone.
"Hello."
"I'm sorry, I was trying to reach "Firetruck"Kennel."
"Yeah, you did but we don't take calls on this line." there is a disgusted sigh. I hear eyes rolling.
" Sorry. I was returning a call to me in order to finish filling out my form. I was looking to board my dogs there...."
"Yeah, well, we don't take calls here. I told ya dat. We're busy."
>pause<
"Oh. Well, excuse me. Since you're busy, I won't trouble you with my business." (Good one.)
"Nooooo. I GUESS I can help you." Did you hear the huffing and SEE the pouting foot digging at the carpet? I sure did.
"Ohhhh NO! I won't inconvenience you....EVER. Thanks for helping me choose another kennel."
That night I was still at a rolling boil but knew I would get over it. The phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hi! This is ***** with "Firetruck" Kennel and we just wanted to call you and get a couple of things finished up with your application so we can board your dogs."
>pause<
"WHO?" I laughed a little, thinking it was a prank from one of my pals...because you KNOW I witched about the incident most of the day. But no, it was all true. Karma comes in many flavors. I believe that this day's super special was "Relished Retaliation". It WAS delicious: sweet, smooth and crunchy all at the same time. Trite? Yes, but no one NO ONE wears that color better than I do.
Now on to Tuesday and jury duty. Stop laughing at me. It isn't funny.
Staring at a nearly empty room I knew I was destined for the little room of doom. But with time came people and as the morning dragged on, it became standing room only. We all held our breath as the first round of contestants was announced. SAFE! But I'd held my breath too long and now had to go.I ducked into a stall and upon reaching , pulled the 1000 sheet roll of toilet tissue out of its housing. It hit the floor with a fluffy "Whump" and ran away from me trailing a one-ply path of guilt across the floor, leaving me with my pants down. Literally. I tried to reel it in but it just kept crawling across the tile. I got what I needed or made use of what I had and fixed the ladies' room, returning to my seat red-cheeked and frustrated.
I got nailed on the second round and was lead into the room of doom where I was instructed (again) on the importance of the jury process. I glanced around, half listening to the directions; much more interested in the other prospects sharing the room with me. There was an Eagles' cheerleader who was more worried about her stilettos and hair versus whether the judicial branch should continue in the US or be switched to a board of professional moderaters. She liked the parts where she got to talk about herself (being a freshman in her forth year at Rutger's) but the word judicial threw her for a loop. She dodged it with a smile, a flip of her hair and a titter, (Yes, the word IS appropriate) then gave a snotty look when a young man sat next to her and picked his nose. She scootched over and winced. I guess he didn't match her outfit.
I missed getting called into the little box and felt great relief. Returning to find a spot in the grand ballroom., I prayed I wasn't called again. Slowly the room took on the smell of Double Bubble, aged Swiss cheese, and cat pee. I sat in a molded art deco 1950's chair trying to avoid shards of pale yellow plastic stabbing the backs of my legs. My temperament was not assisted by the Michael Jackson spectacle abusing my ears. It was no different than anything else he touched: a skewed, warped media circus.
At last we heard the magic words: You are dismissed. We all jockeyed for position and headed out. No sooner was I in my drive than I was greeted by a salesman at the door wanting to bully me into purchasing a miracle cleanser. I was tired but trying to be polite. It wasn't working. So I opened the door and let the dogs out. They swarmed her, barking, sniffing and Winston( naturally) was humping like a fiend. Nothing says "Hello! Nice to meet you!" like one of Wee-man's "special hugs".
"Ooops! SOOOOrry." I grinned, collecting my little "angels" and sweetly promising to give them a treat for getting rid of the pushy naughty salesperson.
"This is why I don't work at the kennel anymore." She mumbled stomping off my porch.
I stared after her in disbelief. Nahhh. It couldn't be. But it's fun to think about.Have a nice night. Sorry so windy and long. I guess I missed ya.
