PlazaJen: Passion Knit

So, you remember Wednesday? A Day of Great Wound-Uppedness? A Day of Biting Off the Heads of Bats?

I had to call a company to get some rate information to advertise with them. I knew, per Kristin, these people didn't have email. Because they work out of a cave with a card table and a phone line, I guess. So I'm chattin' it up & telling him what I want to do (oh, hang on, he made me SPEAK SLOWER, never a good sign.) And at the end, I chirp, "Do you want my email address, do you want to just email that to me?"
Him: "We don't have email. We're not in the 21st century yet."

And me, I get this flash of a zinger, and because I'm having a helluva day, I SAY IT. This rarely happens, because I try to keep all my Polite Filters in place, but something had jostled loose.

Me: "Oh! So. Are you calculating my rates with an abacus, too?"
(I hear Kristin start laaaaaaughing and saying something like 'JENNIFER! YOU DIDNOT JUSTSAYTHAT!')

And here's the gem, because immediately, I felt contrite, even though yes, it was funny, but before I could even apologize for being a bitch, HERE'S HOW HE WON MY HEART:
He said, "Yeah! Can't you hear the beads sliding in the background?"

And then we had a big laugh & I thanked him for being a good sport & said he was really funny, and I'd wait for the carrier pigeons to bring me the information (ok, I didn't, I had already pushed my luck once.)

OH, and how I was talking on Wednesday about how to set my hair on fire? How fitting is this?

Your Hair Should Be Orange

Expressive, deep, and one of a kind. You pull off "weird" well - hardly anyone notices.