Monday, November 8, 2010

phoning it in...

OMG.

Okay, look. I'm not a patient person by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, I don't think it would be going too far to say that if patience were one of the attributes to get into heaven, the Devil and I are going to be real good friends.

That being said, I would say I have manners.  In spades.  I'm genreally pleasant, I say my please and thank you's, and I would never scream profanties at a stranger for having fat fingers.

Did I just do a fly by?

Let me explain.

About fifteen minutes ago, I looked up the phone number for my step-daughter's dentist.  She has an appointment this week that we're not going to be able to make, so a reschedule needed to happen.

I found the dentist's website and quickly dialed the number.

Now, maybe I ate too much salt this weekend.  Maybe I drank too much sangria at my friend's wedding shower yesterday. But for whatever reason, my fingers were clearly larger than usual and unable to handle the small Nerd candy's that Blackberry calls keys on my cell phone. Because this happened.

Me: (dialing number)

Phone: (ringing, ringing, ringing)

Me:  (tapping fingers,irritated that it takes more than two rings for a dental office to answer a telephone.)

Female Voice: (loudly) Some crazy WHITE B*TCH on this phone?

Me: (wondering if I accidentally dialed one of the Real Housewives of Atlanta) Um, hello?

Female Voice:  Mmm hmm!  What you want? He don't wanna talk to you, lady!  Bobby said STOP CALLING!

Me: Um, I'm sorry?  I thought I was calling XYZ Dentist Office.

Female:  WHAT? Does this sound like a DENTAL ASSISTANT?  What do you want?

Me: (hanging up quickly before my call can be traced and Billy's girlfriend shows up at my doorstep.)

I have no idea who I called or how in the world Bobby has managed to keep a girlfriend (or mother?) around that acts like that.  I either caught someone on the worst day of their life, or I have finally met someone with even less patience than me.  Because really, this woman was mad before I even SPOKE. How did she know I was even a woman?

Either way, today I am considering myself more patient than Ghandi for not having given that crazy lady a lesson in manners and kindness.

(This will hopefully overshadow the fact that I am a total wimp and too scared to stand up for myself over the phone to someone who can't even see me.)

But seriosuly people, this woman was MAD.

The great part is, I still have the number since it's the last one I dialed.  Maybe I'll call later and tell her Bobby's candlelit reservation for The Bristol at 9:00 with Candy Whitefield has been pushed up to 9:15...

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