#19: Telemarketing

Shit, shit, shit, how the hell did they get his number again?

"I'm waiting, sir." The voice said, without even a note so clear as apathy in the voice.

"I'm thinking, ma'am. I just, you know, I'm thinking."

"I don't know, sir. I'm ready for you to stop thinking now."

It wasn't fair. He changed his number six times in the last year, and every single time, they still managed to break through. In fact, telemarketers were the only demographic that ever called anymore.

"No, then, okay? No. Not at this time. Thank you for your concern."

"Can I ask why not, sir? After all, there's no initial risk to you in the very least. After your 90 day trial, you can always cancel by sending in a bank draft with 'cancel' scrawled all over it to our home office. Why wouldn't you try us."

The knife. It was just out of reach. Blast! he knew he shouldn've bought a cordles phone--his wrists would be in tatters by now!

"I have to go, there's (that's it) water boiling over!"

"I'll just send it out, thank you!" *click*

Fuck. He slammed the phone down on the counter. Damn.

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