You know when you get a call from a number you don’t recognize and you’re sure it’s a wrong number, so you just stare at the phone in terror (the terror part might just be me) until it stops ringing? That just happened 5 minutes ago. They left a voicemail.
“Yeah sorry, somebody was on the other line. But, uh, as I was saying, the 4th quarter projections are up. I know Tim was not so optimistic, but you know Tim, he’s always flying by the seat of his pants. What can you do, he’s not so smart. But yeah so if you want to call me back, we can maybe head downtown Friday, get some brews. I think the Chinks opened up a new bar downtown, so… I heard they like to party. Just hit me up and I’ll see you tomorrow.
I have so many things to say to this.
1. You made it past my inbox in which I say “Hey, it’s Cappy, leave me a message!” in a really peppy voice. How did you not realize I was not friends with you?
2. That damn Tim and his pant rockets. He needs to calm down and get himself an education. He needs to get on your level, because you’re a genius. Duh.
4. Did you say Chinks? I definitely listened to that part 5 times to make sure, and you definitely said Chinks. This is upsetting on so many levels. But hey, at least they’re down to party.
If this was not a racist remark, you need to enunciate more.
5. I don’t want you managing my finances/being any part of my business because you’re an idiot and — dare I say it — a jackass.
6. I will not be seeing you tomorrow, and if you call me again, I will write another blog post about you. You’ve been warned.