Christmas Eve

Merry Christmas.

Well it's too early for that now. It's only Christmas eve and I'm standing out in the cold and the rain at a telephone booth. Now I remember the days that a telephone booth was an actual enclosure. You closed it behind you and you were cut off from the elements and the unwanted noise of the streets. Who was the designer at the telephone company that got away with the strategy: "Hey, lets leave people standing out in the rain and subjected to the sounds of passing trucks and cars because these things will be on street corners and sidewalks!"

I wonder if this guy got a promotion or got fired. Probably a promotion.

Well, here I am calling up Time Warner Cable for my Internet connection and I get this woman with the most annoying voice in the world. She speaks as if she really can't stand her job one bit, and she reads from a screen. Next, she gives me a battery of questions which were fucking disqualifiers. Every last one of them because I answered all of these questions in great detail on the website when I ordered the connection already. Just to test her sorry ass out, when she got to a daytime phone number, I told her that I had none, which was correct. So she comes back with: "Well, we can't bring the connection to your home without a phone number." There you go. Just get one of her questions wrong, or get where you can't answer one, and NO Cable For You!

So I made up a fucking number for her. Let her call me. I doubt it. I'll tell them that it was a new number and I got it memorized wrong. If my luck holds though, it will not be needed in the least and her disqualifer can go right up her fucking ass.

Well, as she hits me with a battery of questions. I make the mistake of telling her that I'm standing out in the rain and the cold, and can we hurry this up. Well, I guess she mistook that to mean lets shift into slower gear, because the bitch fell into a time warp, her speech drawled, slurred as if being a stretched recording cut down to a slower speed. Fucking wench.

So much a retard was this woman that she tells me that my circuit will be coming next Tuesday. Not this Tuesday, because today is Wednesday, but next Tuesday. Well she gives me a date of December 30th...THIS Tuesday. Now this would not be so bad if I didn't make plans for this Tuesday. Simple motherfucker. Take that nasally voice of yours and skip on along to Hell.

Like I need her shit this Christmas Eve. But the fun and games do not stop there people.

I go to Duane Reade to pick up my prescrip- tions. Now here's the funny part. Two weeks ago I come with a handful of prescriptions to be filled and leave them. Later, they tell me that I have ordered them too early and that they'll keep my prescriptions 'on file' until I need them next. So yesterday I go in and request some of those prescriptions from on file and here I am thinking that today would be just as easy as walking in and picking them up. Ha ha ha ha What kind of fool am I?

I walk in and find that every prescription that should have been on file was not filled. Great. I just walk out. I'm not going to let these idiots spoil my Christmas eve no more than they have already. I'm going to sit down in Starbucks and look and see if I can find ZAPRANOTH in the airwaves. No, it is not there. Too many brick and concrete walls I suppose.

Which reminds me even further as to what kind of Christmas Eve that I am facing. Just getting on the elevator first thing this morning, I'm counting change, right? And walking in, there is this aggravated looking crumb standing in the corner. I walk in and press the first floor button and he catches a fit. "Why do you press the button if you see it lit up?" I look to him as the door closes. It'll be alright, I inform him. "I just don't understand why you would press the button if you see it lit up??"

I think about it. This poor miscreant wants someone to engage him in senseless conversation this morning. Negative, positive or otherwise. Fuck him. I don't need to talk to him. I return to counting my money, ignoring him. He huffs. "Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable." It must have bothered him that I gave him the back of my head. He has to repeat himself in a grunt: "Un-fucking-believable."

That's how my day has been going so far. But am I going to let these cretins slow me down? I don't think so. I'm going to just keep on going and for the next two days, I'm going to forget about everything thrown my way. Like water off a duck's back, as my father would say. I will not allow these people to give me the holiday that they themselves are enjoying, or not enjoying. Tough shit for them. They want to make you feel just like they do for the Holidays. They feel like shit, so they want to spread that kind of cheer all around. Well, they can keep it.

I sit in Starbucks and blog. Christmas Eve. Later I'll retire to my room and spend the rest of my day there. That will be the call. I'll spend Christmas Eve with myself. Tomorrow will be a busy day. I'll recharge for that.

Happy Holidays for most of you. Spread some good cheer.

Hobobob