My phone jing-a-lings. Not a number I recognize, but I answer. Took me about twenty seconds to realize what was going on as the psycho twat starting spewing crap the moment I picked up. She explained that she was going to call the cops and have them issue me a citation for not having proof of insurance at the scene of the crime, she was also going to promptly take me to small claims court. It took me another four seconds before I hung up on her without saying a word.
What happened during the 30 seconds (1/2 a minute to be dramatic about it) following call: I got a chance to explain to my dad what just happened on the phone. He expressed the desire to answer if she called back. She did, and he did.
What happened during the next 24 seconds: My dad answered, listened, and then gave his input. "Go ahead and call the FUCKING cops!"
Point of this story? My dad and I have the exact same asshole tolerance level.
|Couldn't even get through the better half of a minute.|
I realize now this is probably the swiftness in which men block out
a nagging girlfriend.
Bumper to Bumper,
Katie E. Eshelman