13
Dec
08

Was that really called for?

For those of you who don’t know, I work the night shift, and have for about 15 years. Nights are perfect for me, because I would much rather have my afternoons off to enjoy the sunshine and outdoors than be stuck behind a computer, wishing I could be outside. Most of the time, I don’t feel like I’m missing much except for endless morning traffic, sit-coms that you normies feel are great but are, infact, tragically retarded, and crowds galore.

However, being a night shift guy, sleep is a very catch-as-catch-can type of thing. Sometimes I get 4 hours, sometimes 10. I take what I can get. But you would be surprised at how noisy you bastard normies are. Invariably, one of you wake me up.  Slamming a car door, laying on a car horn because you’re too damn lazy to get out of your fucking car and knock on the door, letting your mutant inbred lovechild wail on the lawn, deciding to cut the grass at 8a.m. or having the lawn care guys arrive and fire up leaf blowers early on … it’s unending, I swear! I think my all-time favorite was waking up to a combination of a DJ blairing Inglebert Humperdink for a senior citizen pool party and the Haitian lawn guys screaming in Creole over their leafblowers … it was a perfect storm that left me giggling like a madman, setting up a plan on how to kill them all by using grazing fire to drive them into one area, and then open up with armor-piercing rounds in the Enfield to ignite the gas tanks of various cars. I had the perfect spot from my bedroom window on the third floor to do it from. And it would have worked. I knew it!

But do you know what really tops my list of ass-chaffing normie wake-ups? The call at 8 a.m. To chat.

Listen up, normies — I’ll phrase this as simply as I can: Unless it’s an emergency, DON’T FUCKING CALL ME AT 8A.M. Chances are, if you know me, you know I don’t like to chat on the phone anyway. But at 8 a.m.? You better be telling me that I won the lottery, that you got Salma Hayek’s digits and that she wants to hook up with me, or some killer variation of full win before you even think of waking me up. The only part of my brain that is functioning at that time is the very baseline human instinct, which thinks one of 3 things:

1) Reproduction
2) Need more sleep
3) Kill all normies to stop senseless noise

And if for some reason I would be up and would answer the call, chances are I am NOT a happy man. So why are you surprised that I sound irritable? “Oh, you’re grumpy today!” Seriously, did you just say that? Well jumpin’ Jesus on a pogo stick, I forgot how sunshine and rainbows fly out your ass when I wake you up at 3a.m. to talk about my day and people you have no interest in, let alone know who they are. How could I forget that you’re a veritable Snuggles the Fabric Softner Bear when woken up in mid-sleep. You just laugh it off, give me a warm smile and immediately slip back into the land of puppies, kittens, pretty flowers and unicorns or whatever the hell else happens in your cracked-out fantasy land.

I especially love the rationalization for the 8a.m. calls — “Well, I didn’t know I’d wake you up — I just wanted to leave a message,” and “Why didn’t you turn your phone off?”

1) “I just wanted to leave a message.”: You see, there’s this simple, noiseless way to do that — it’s called “e-mail.” That’s right — type it out, click that little “send” button and I’ll get back to you as soon as I’m up. You know what I check first thing in the morning? My e-mail. Why? Because respectful normies know that this is the best way to get in touch with me without waking me up and having me tear them a new asshole. You know what I check last? My phone. Why? Cause if I see you’ve woken me up, the only thing I want to do is tear your head off and shove it up your ass.

2) “Why didn’t you turn your phone off?”: I leave my phone on for emergencies — like if something were to happen with family or friends, I am potentially the only person who can help. Most people can ride out something like a car breaking down when they know someone they know and trust is available to help them out — so that’s why I leave it on. And can you imagine the guilt that I would catch if I did have it turned off and emergency happened? “Oh, you felt that your sleep was more important than me. I understand completely.” Just fucking shoot me in the face now — I really don’t need to hear that shit.

So please, in the interest of world peace and not getting punched repeatedly in the head, doused with gas and set aflame, don’t call me at 8a.m. unless it’s vitally important. I try and be respectful while you sleep. Please try to extend that same courtesy to me.

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1 Response to “Was that really called for?”


  1. December 16, 2008 at 5:53 pm

    Back when I was a teenage bastard we used to do this to each other just to be jackoffs. You know, you were up all night drinking and for some reason dad woke you up at some ungodly hour… well fuck that Scott has his own line, how about I call him to make sure he’s up too.

    Or when I took a night-shift job at Children’s Palace and people would call me at 10AM… not 8AM because I was still working. Ahh those were the days.

    RING
    RING
    “FUCK YOU”
    CLICK


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