You know how in movies someone will be lost in the forest and then they find a cabin with an old hermit living in it? You know how the old hermit always wordlessly serves the visitor gruel and remains silent the entire time?
Suddenly that seems unrealistic. If you’re stuck with NO VISITORS for AGES, wouldn’t you chatter at one like a magpie?
At least that was my story yesterday with the AT&T guy. As you know, from your now-giant tome of June Events, my internet broke to bits and it was wreaking havoc on m’work, which is, you know, internet-based now that we’re all home. I have to say, I called AT&T and they answered right away, and they scheduled me for the next day, and the guy got here right on time. It’s sad that that’s now our standard for good customer service. “They did the bare minimum! Hooray!!”
Speaking of which, a card came in the mail yesterday and I assumed it was a birthday card from one of my more organized relatives such as my Aunt Kathy, who is a Virgo. Sending a card 15 days early? Of course! You gotta make sure it GETS there!
Anyway, it wasn’t. It was a birthday card, for Edsel, on his actual birthday, FROM CHEWY. If you aren’t getting your pet supplies from Chewy I can’t imagine why not. They send (most of) Edsel’s meds on a regular schedule (I was on the fence about his arthritis meds so I haven’t set it up yet) at a discount, they send food the same way, and they send flea meds each month too, FOR CHEAPER. Oh, and litter! Do you know how nice it is to only lug in litter from the front door to the back room as opposed to across the store, at the checkout, to the car, from the car to home?
DO YOU? Litter boxes have this hard terrible narrow strap that digs into your hand and visits your bones. It’s awful. With Chewy, my bones are visited less often!
I know I sound like a Chewy ad, but seriously.
Anyway what was I talking about? [scrolls up]
Oh, yes, AT&T.
The guy came on time, and he was masked, and I was masked, and masked-edly we went into the kitten room where my modem is and the modem was dead. No one tipped it over or ruined it, it just died of natural causes like Carl Reiner. So he gave me a new one and we had to sit there awhile while it did whatever and he told me about his three dogs.
He has a German shepherd, an Australian shepherd—apparently he needs a lot of things herded—and some sort of poodle/shih tzu mix.
“Is that last one the selection of some woman?” I asked. You’ll be stunned to hear it was. And then he told me they’d broken up and she’d left all three dogs with him. So here’s this big country guy with some teensy shitty white dog. He seemed to really like the shitty little dog, though, and when I asked who the alpha was he said she was. So that was interesting.
“Why can’t you date him?” asked my mother, who spent all the other days of my life telling me you don’t need a man.
“Well, first of all, he was like 25,” I said.
“So?” said Gloria Steinem, over there with her fish and a bicycle.
This may sound very snobbish to you but I could never date a man with a tiny dog.
I have to go copy edit something. Don’t let me forget to tell you that Chris and Lilly have even MORE kittens now—it’s a whole thing. And they did invite me over to meet the other kittens and I said, “Oh, I can’t this day and that day” and then we never did set up a day.
I had my trainer. In case you’re all, But June is a hermit with gruel. Why couldn’t she zip over there ANY day?
Okay, seriously, I’m really going. I have something due at noon I’m scared I won’t finish by noon.
Meanwhile, the gruel is over there in a pot by the fire. WTF is gruel?