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TEQUILACON '08 - Latest Updates
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and illustrations by kris dresen
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« Classy Broads | Main | Trivial, but still. »
As I looked for a seat on the train this morning, the grey-bearded man seemed overly put out when I asked if he could move his Chicago Tribune so I could sit down. He held his arms wide as he continued to read the sports section, to prove a point, clearly.
His phone rang. It was the theme song from Caddyshack.
I'm alright
Nobody worry 'bout me
Why you got to gimme a fight?
Can't you just let it be?
I liked him even less.
I’m alright
Nobody worry ‘bout…
“Hello?”
“No, this is his brother.”
“No, he’s not here.”
“No, he doesn’t have any other phones.”
“No, you can’t reach him anywhere. He’s really difficult to get a hold of because he’s in the witness protection program.”
“The witness protection program. With the FBI.”
“Yeah. Bye.”
So I began to wonder if a) this man had just revealed to a stranger that his brother was in the witness protection program, or b) this man had just discovered the best way to end telemarketing calls ever.
But then he proceeded to belch after each sip of his coffee for the remaining five minutes of my ride, and the witness protection program started to sound like paradise.
Posted by runjenrun at April 24, 2008 10:01 PM
Ew. Can't you take the Disco Cab to work instead of the train?
Posted by: shari at April 24, 2008 11:10 PM
Gosh, what an asshat. Next time just light the newspaper on fire. If he puts it out and asks you why you did it, say, 'Sorry', then do it again. This strikes me as an effective way to gain a seat on a train. If you're so inclined, you can also light him on fire if you think it'll help, but it may complicate things in the end.
Posted by: You can call me, 'Sir' at April 25, 2008 02:12 AM
I hate it when men take the wide leg, gonna fully extend my paper, drinking my coffee with elbows in your face stance. So glad I can walk to work these days. And coffee burps? Just ew.
Posted by: Dingo at April 25, 2008 05:33 AM
shari: i'm not even sure the disco cab ever really happened. it all seems like a happy dream to me.
sir: he was the chief haberdasher of asshatery. and i have fantasies like that all the time... i just kept picturing myself snatching the paper out of his hands, crumpling it up into a tight ball and screaming, "CUBS LOST M*THERF*CKER! Are we done now?!"
dingo: seriously. and for some reason, the worst offenders on the trains seem to be old men and young women. both have some innate sense of entitlement to public transportation seats.
Posted by: jenny at April 25, 2008 07:02 AM
I've been thinking I need something to liven up my blog. Maybe I should start riding the bus as public transportation seems to be a good source of interesting stories.
Posted by: delmer at April 25, 2008 08:23 AM
I vote great telemarketing shield. But public transpo annoys me. Last time, this pregnant woman and her old grandmother wouldn't give me their seats. I almost had to yank them out of there.
Posted by: Don at April 25, 2008 09:10 AM
I think I get his formula for getting rid of telemarketers. To sum up: convey what a colossal a$$hole you are using only five sentences.
Posted by: vahid at April 25, 2008 09:22 AM
I am totally using Sir's idea next time someone is in my personal space with anything flammable.
Posted by: elise at April 25, 2008 10:15 AM
That is genius.
Dear Class of 1998,
We're sorry to inform you that Miss Britt will not be attending your reunion this year. It is not because she has gained weight and is working in a crummy sales job. Nor is it because she really just doesn't give two shits about seeing you.
Rather, she is in the witness protection program.
Thanks for understanding,
The FBI
Posted by: Miss Britt at April 25, 2008 10:41 AM
My Dad always says, "the world would be a better place without all these damn people." That one included.
Posted by: Black Belt Mama at April 25, 2008 10:43 AM
I'm surprised he didn't just pee all over the seat to mark his territory. Although the constant belching probably worked almost as well.
Posted by: churlita at April 25, 2008 01:50 PM
Curious. What is one supposed to say about a relative in the witness protection program? He took a job in Thailand, joined the peace corps and has no internet in his village, is in a coma in Switzerland...?
Posted by: claire at April 25, 2008 03:14 PM
The strangest invasion of space I've encountered was while at a movie theater (the old kind without "stadium seating." I had one leg crossed over the other knee, and a young girl in front of me leaned forward and flipped her really long hair back behind the seat and over my leg. I remember thinking too bad I didn't know how to braid hair. Her father was probably one of those guys who uses the common back of restaurant booths as an armrest.
Posted by: roy at April 26, 2008 09:21 AM
Maybe you misunderstood him...he probably said he was in the WITLESS protection program. Makes more sense that way! ;)
Posted by: Fiorello La Guardia at April 26, 2008 05:14 PM
I'm so stealing that bit for the next time I get a telemarketing call. That's fabulous (even if he's not.)
Posted by: Carly at April 27, 2008 11:27 PM
