Look Out, Honey

I got a call this morning. I don't know anyone in Atlanta, Georgia, so I ignored it. I was busy and didn't notice until lunchtime that I had a message.

I signed into my message thingie and found that the message was a few seconds short of three minutes. That was a record-breaker. Messages from people I know with important news last less than a minute. Of course, you know me, I was curious.

Well, I got an earful. It was a very annoyed woman, to put it mildly, reading someone the riot act. From what I could understand, as she was sometimes unintelligible, the intended recipient had voiced an opinion on a conversation or situation they hadn't been a part of. The caller said she was sixty years old and deserved to be treated with respect and didn't want to hear from this person ever again.

The  fascinating part was that this woman managed to squeeze the f-word into her message approximately every two and a half seconds. I wondered whether if she hit a certain number within a certain time period she'd win a prize.

I didn't listen to the whole thing. It clearly was meant for someone else and my ears were starting to throb.

I briefly considered calling her back to tell her she'd reached the wrong person. And mention that if she wanted respect, she might clean up her language. Briefly. I'm not as simple as I look.

But just think--should she ever run into this person again, she'll be twice as furious when they claim to have no idea what her problem is.

Look out, honey.