I hope that my wasted time yesterday bears fruit in some miraculous way.  Fortunately my energy levels rock today and I scribed a long to do list.  Yet, some relentless telemarketer, probably AT&T won’t give it up. These jerks called five times.  On the sixth ring I said, “That’s it! I’m screwing with them.”  I used another word instead of screwing.

“Why, howdy!” I began in my best crazy lady twang.  “I’ve been praying to the Lord Jesus alllllllll mornin’ long to bring me someone to talk to. Allelujha, the Lord answered my prayers.  So how are ya doin’ darlin?”

A young man’s voice with boiler room echoes waving in thru his headset says, “Hello.  I’m Justin from….”

“Justin! Praise God! Your mama must have thought proud of you.  I know that you were sent to me today because I prayed hard all mornin’ long. Ya see, I woke up this mornin’ to find my pet turtle d-e-d DEAD! My big red heart is just crushed and so I had to ask Jesus to send me some one to pour my heart out to.”

“Jesus is good….” Justin began.

“PTL, brother!  Have you ever lost somethin’ so close and important to ya that ya feel like jest dyin’ ryte next to em? I mean, Justin, and by the way, Mr. Justin, I think we should both find our knees (I can’t find my knees right now, ‘cuz I gotta little heavy recently, but I know they’re there, they just ain’t showin’ like they did when I was a youngin’ like you) but ya see bruther Justin how we gotta find those knees and find a place on the ground below and pray to the Almighty above.  Will you get down on your knees now and pray with me and pray for my beloved turtle?”

“Why yes, I could do that,” he actually replied.  “But first, I’d like to…”

“Oh praise your kind soul.  Now what I’m wonderin’ is what killed my sweet turtle.  He weren’t nothin’ like them endingered — that’s the word, ain’t it – kinda turtle, just a little itty bitty thing with no sin like the men I see walkin’ into that bar down da street gonna be seein’ here real soon. I mean, them men got some sin jes workin’ up on them with that satan juice.  Justin, you don’t drink that satan-juice, now do ya?”

“No, but what I’d like to….”

“Then you’re alright with me and the Lord. …….”

Poor Justin has to get something going in less than 10 minutes so, because his jerk company ignores my do not call demands, and my whining and complaining falls on deaf ears, I say screw with ’em.  Guarantee they’ll remove your number from their list–voluntarily.

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