If I answer the phone, croaking like a dying frog, and you, sales rep from hell, say, “How are you?” and then you keep talking because it is apparently ALL ABOUT YOU, oh, my mistake for listening to your words, then you, dear sales rep, deserved the “fuck you” I said after I hung up. For I barely had the time to inhale to answer your question and you were launching into your All About You speech. So I exhaled, wishing the alien creature deep in my chest could smash through the phone lines and rip your head off with its glistening wet teeth.
I know I can be self absorbed? But some people take it to such a higher level, even I am astounded.
Next time just keep on talking and letting them know how damn crappy you feel, and interupt them and then maybe JUST MAYBE they’ll stop bothering you. Maybe. But I doubt it.
Yeah, I think I’d just interrupt the asswipe and launch into a detailed description of every glob of goo that has come out of your body while sick. I’m sure you could work up the sound effects.
And, on days when you’re feeling better and they call, a good ear-piercing shriek into the phone might convince them to look elsewhere.
Yeah. I like phone solicitors too. With their heads on pikes.