Dear Former Cellular-Phone Provider,
Die.
Die a long, horrible death, preferably engulfed in your own flaming ignorance. Oh, and stop fucking with my credit, please. I'd like to be a respectable member of society one day.
Many Thanks,
H
Am on line with aforementioned company trying to explain, in v. simple terms, why should not have to pay for service that cancelled over three months ago. Not that cannot pay outstanding balance of $132.47, but is a matter of principle at this point. If faceless voice at other end of line would go that extra special mile and check to see that no activity has been posted to said account since November, then argument would be pointless. Fuckwits.
It's very big of you to take out all your frustrations on that poor customer service girl.
Well, she's retarded.
You're having what amounts to a nervous breakdown, and it's the cell phone company's fault?
Exactly. My god, you're astute.
Yes, I am. And that's how I know this has nothing to do with $132.47, and everything to do with what J said in the hot tub.
Come on. I always knew that's how he felt.
But now he actually said it. To a handful of strangers.
It was inevitable, really. Sad, though. That as close as we are, and as good as it can be, it's not...
Permanent.
Nothing is.
*Ahem* as your Inner Goddess, I'd just like to point out that when we chose roles, MINE was the cynic. Where did this pessimism come from? Besides, it's not true.
Yeah? Name one thing, besides these extra 10 pounds, that's going to be with me forever.
Me.
Oh God. Kill me now.