Monday, May 19, 2008

Here's To The Postal Service...

No personally-rooted Mail Man jokes this time, I promise.

Oh, the joys of working in the family business...

Gawd, Friday was rough, if I'da been a mail man, I'da shot up the place, for-sure.

I guess it probably got started about Wednesday and just kept brewin' on me, but by the time I left work Friday, I was mad as hell. As soon as the car door closed, I had the radio up so loud I was waiting for my ears to bleed. When I got to Clay's house, Mom had called him because she'd called my cell phone three times and I didn't answer. Whups.

Saturday morning was slightly amusing, and included getting to hear a couple more sides of what went on Friday afternoon. Amusing but still, he left early Wednesday and Thursday, and then Friday he didn't get there 'til about two O'clock and then left again only to promptly call on the phone and throughly piss me off. I really thought he knew better than to talk to me like that -- I about halfway expect the "lemme talk to somebody else" deal from the general retail public, but come on, we're talkin' about my own brother here, and my patience was strained to begin with.

Saturday night, when all I wanted was a good night of racing to forget it all, the ol' Black Motor ate another bell housing.

Sunday afternoon, the source of my Friday frustration had the nerve to call my cell phone 'cause he was trying to get the computers working and "thuh internets says page not be displayed."

I only answered 'cause I really didn't think he'd call me and it must've been Mom or Dad, 'cause really, I'm sure he had to know I was mad Friday, and I'm sure he had to know that Mom was mad too since she hung up on him while he was bitchin' about me late Friday night.

Now, Monday, he pretends none of it happened and everything is fine.

Since he apparently has no memory of the evening, I'm wondering if maybe that was a drunk-dial late Friday night, but seriously, who drunk-dials their own Mother? Personally, I've never done any drunk-dialing, but I have a few guesses who I might call if I did. Mom or Dad is nowhere near any of those guesses. College buddies, racin' buddies, old boyfriends, ex-girlfriends-of-old-boyfriends, pizza delivery, anybody but my parents.

Just 'cause I'm all about sharing the laughter, I'll share a little more fun that's loosely connected to That two-humped animal incident that I wrote about a while back. Today, she seemed a little confused about "irritated." She asked about Mom not bein' here. (Mom's not in the office, Mom's truck is not in the parking lot, why did I have to help with drawing the conclusion that Mom is not in today?)

"Is she sick?"

"Nah, just irritated."

"What, her stomach or a rash or what?"

"No, irritated, she's pissed off and didn't want to be here today."

I really didn't want to be here today either, but I've got a broken transmission that needs to be fixed.

More later... _\,,/

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