Dear dimwit on the phone

*click*

 

Classic, Baron. I know a couple of times I've had parents or others come up and start making jokes while I was interviewing someone and I'd just stare them off or, if they were obnoxious about it, I'd have to tell them, "hey I'm working here."

 

I actually didn't, just sat the phone down on my shoulder and continued budgeting the paper. She went on for about 10 minutes, never pausing for a response. Something about her daughter marrying a dead-beat and how the police refused to arrest him for this that and the other and how there must've been a conspiracy afoot and on and on.

 

Hey, guy whose wife is running the scoreboard at the volleyball match:

Thanks for being honest. I'm glad you feel like our paper makes mistakes every day that we're always correcting and that you don't feel like it's worth the paper it's printed on. But that's not what amazes me. What amazes me is that both you and your wife have known me for years and yet you spoke about it as though it was nothing that should hurt my feelings. I'd almost swear you didn't know who you were talking to. But what it did was royally piss me off and your wife caught on. That's why she pulled you along by your collar and sat your sorry ass down in the bleachers before I stood up and started screaming at you. She spent the rest of the night apologizing for you.

After a while, she started ranting about you and I'll be honest: I'm amazed you two are still married. I hope the couch was comfy. Hell, the way it sounds like you get in trouble for not using discretion before you open your mouth, I'm certain you're used to it, asshole.

 

Sounds like the wife may be primed for you to get your ultimate revenge.

 

If you are in this biz, get used to it.

 

But where will he get a ring box?

 

Tonight's e-mail (spelling is exactly how it came in):

Wouldn’t it be great if the U S Govt had to have a bake sail to by a bomber, kind of like wouldn’t it be great if all of the hometown volleyball games were covered by a reporter and the football coaches had to call in their scores.

 

Bake McBride would like to have a word with the e-mailer.

Or better yet, invite them to our shop, where we staffed two football games and three others were called in!

 

I've been in it 15 years. I will never get used to it. He wasn't speaking to me as if I work for the newspaper. He was talking to me as if I was just some guy in the stands he decided to rant on. Because he didn't say "you," he kept saying "the paper" and "they."

And, no, I won't be plotting revenge with the wifey. Mid 60's is a bit out of my range.

 

You gotta give him points for creativity.

 

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