“Why I Hate Answering the Phone”: A Story About Work

Dear erratic possibly-possessed, asshole who called me today at work just to scream at me for 20 minutes (also known as Tom Johnston),

Thank you. I have been waiting for a reason to cry at work for months now, but I could never find one. I don’t know what I would have had to do if you hadn’t been transferred to my desk to interrupt my pleasant mood with your ill-conceived attempt at being a human being.  Thrown myself down a flight of stairs? Stapled my face? Nope. Didn’t have to. Your phone call made tears possible without self-mutilation, and I thank you for that.

I want you to know, that I appreciate all that you bring to the world. Your problems are my fault, really. I’m sorry I ever doubted the role I played in your 46 years of misery on this planet. Clearly if I could sacrifice my entire existence for one moment of your happiness, I would, but I am certain it would never be enough. So I’d like to apologize to you for your life.

I’m sorry. Truly I am. I am sorry that a GED has only earned you $150,000 working on Wall Street, (although a terrible fate for a high school drop-out, this could explain a lot about the downfall of the American economy). I am sorry that your son, the consumer of my company’s product, could not talk to you openly about his decision to purchase it. You are after all, such a warm and sensitive man. Any child would be poorly lacking without you in their life.36jq6y

But mostly, sir, I feel sorry for you. There, I said it. Because after I stopped crying and your intrusive phone call stopped replaying in my head, I went back to being me, and you are stuck being you, an overpaid, nasty, rapid baboon of a person, whose personal life is so out of reach your only solace is to interject 20 minutes of unprecedented rudeness into another person’s life, via telephone calls. I may make a quarter of what you make, with double the education, but I’m far better off than you’ll ever be.

Plus you’re a raging c***.

Love,

The girl too stubborn to hang up, too sensitive to brush it off

imagesCA0JQT1L

About thegirlwiththeblog

At any given time I can be found moisturizing my elbows and searching for words that rhyme with orange.

Posted on January 21, 2013, in life lessons I never wanted to learn, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 14 Comments.

  1. The world is filled with little people with little minds who point fingers everywhere but at themselves when things go wrong.

  2. Anything that ends with “Plus…” is bound to be good…

  3. Don’t censor yourself. You can say it. He deserves it.

  4. I deal with these baboons, too. I work at a tax firm as a receptionist, even though I have two degrees. It is always great fun then when some jerk who owns a multi-million dollar company calls and tries to blame me for some issue with his tax returns, as if I don’t already hate my job and my lot in life enough.

  5. It sounds like Mr. Johnston takes being a c*** very seriously and passionately. It’s incredible what people will fly off the handle over, but you’re right — the best part of all of it is that are the end of the day, he’s a dick and you’re not. I feel considerably bad for Mrs. Johnston (if there is one). He probably spends most nights complaining about his lost youth and increasing issue with hemorrhoids.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 214 other followers

%d bloggers like this: