I miss Brian.

A telemarketer just called to talk to me about my reward card points and a super special offer, just for me! His name was Brian. Kept him on the line for 10 minutes. Answered most of his questions with “What would YOU do?” for an answer, and made him answer me before he could ask me another question. Drilled him on other personal details because, I pointed out, he probably has a bunch of info about me on his screen, and fair is fair.

We talked about how I hate people and how he lives in Vegas but avoids the strip. (Everyone who lives there avoids it, so he said.) We both like to go to NYC, but only for a few days at a time or we get stabby, and we agree that La Guardia is gross. Like MRSA in the carpet gross. We both enjoy drinking in crappy hole-in-the-wall bars, and we both think that Orlando is the worst vacation destination if you hate people. He’s never been to Mount Rushmore (I have), but really likes New Orleans, so he hopes to get back there someday. We talked about what city we think has highest rate of meth labs (we agreed that it has to be somewhere in northern Wyoming), and what we might do if we ever went to Fargo, ND. (We both love the movie Fargo.)

He lives with his boyfriend of “a little over a year”, and his parents are still alive. By the time I got around to “So, Brian. Don’t be pissed, but I’m really not interested in any crappy timeshares.”, he just laughed and didn’t seem to care. He said that his supervisor was now standing behind him because he (Brian) had been cracking up for 10 minutes. I said, “You’re probably fucking fired, Brian.” Before I hung up, I told him that I’ll only talk to *him* if they ever call again, I’m not talking to some other phone jockey, so I told him, “Mark my file, muthafuckaaaaaaa!”

This has been a true story. You’re welcome.


  1. Tracey

    This is something that my husband does. All the time. Usually, with a British accent or as though he is incredibly amazed by the “special deal just for him.” I’ll bet you made Brian’s day a whole lot brighter and that you are being made into a fantastic story in a crappy bar in Las Vegas.