sorry, but can you please explain, in simple and plain English, exactly what that means?”
“It means we are open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, three hundred and sixty-five days a year,” I explain good-naturedly.
He-Who-Loves-BO seems pleased with my answer. But then he hits me with this next mind numbing question. “Um, what time zone is that? Eastern, mountain or pacific?”
I blink. A couple of times
?????????????????????
When I finally find my voice, I say, “Um...all of them?”
“I am so sorry, Samantha, but I still don’t follow what you’re saying. Now you’re open twenty-four hours a day in what specific time zone?”
I decide to simplify things for him. “Well sir, what time zone do you live in?”
“Um...Eastern?” he says uncertainly, like he’s a contestant and I’m a game show host quizzing him live on Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader.
“Well in that case sir, we are open twenty-four hours a day, Eastern time.” I scratch my head at how ludicrous that sounds. But Jeepers! That is the only way I could get through him.
“You are? Well that is wonderful. Thank you for all your help, Samantha. You’ve been super. Have yourself a fabulous day,” he says in a chipper voice.
“You’re very welcome sir, and thanks for calling Lightning Speed Communications.”
Now, I have got a pretty high tolerance for stupidity. But that has got to be the dumbest person I have ever spoken to. I daresay he was dumber than algae! Heck, I am not even that smart, but he is so dumb that in comparison, I come off looking like some sort of astrophysicist who just won the Nobel Prize for quantifying the universe.
But in his defense, he was upbeat and positive throughout the call, and he sounded like a very happy man.
Ah...ignorance is bliss.
Plus, he was so incredibly nice, and oftentimes niceness can take a person a lot further in life. I imagine Mister I-Love-BO floating through life in a happy bubble, meandering aimlessly through smelly, sweaty gyms.
It’s my lunch time! Very swiftly, I log off the phone before another call comes through. Truong is already on his lunch break and browsing the internet.
“Truong, I just spoke to a guy whose username is I Love BO.”
He chortles gleefully. “I once dated a guy with really bad BO. Let me tell you, Maddy, it was so bad. You would not believe the stench! But Pepé Le Pew was super hawt, and so we dated for a week until I could not take it anymore. So I told him very nicely that I had serious issues with his BO, and that he really needed to take a shower.”
“Did you guys still date after that?”
“No. But many months later, we bumped into each other and he thanked me profusely for bringing it to his attention. I’m such a Good Samaritan,” he says with a virtuous glow.
“What? He thanked you for bringing it to his attention? Are you telling me he didn’t know that he needed to shower?” I say in my most sardonic voice and smirk. “Wow!”
“Cut it out you ninny!”
I reach for my water bottle and take a sip of water. “What are you browsing, Truong?”
“Just the latest news on Prop 8,” he says distractedly.
I pause thoughtfully. “Do you hope to get married someday?”
“Oh hells no,” he cries. “I mean, of course I want my peeps to be able to get married, but I personally do not want to get hitched. No, no, no. No marriage for me.”
This takes me by surprise. “But why not?”
“Why should I buy the whole pig when all I want is a little sausage?”
I let out a howl of laughter.
Kars perches on my desk. “What are you guys talking about?”
“Pigs and sausages,” says Truong without missing a beat. “It’s the mantla that I live by.”
I turn to Karsynn and explain, “Truong was just telling me all about his mantra in life.”
Kars purses her lips. “I’ve got a new mantra myself, thanks to Doctor Mares.”
Janis forced Kars to seek therapy shortly after her breakup with Bob. So once a week, Kars visits her psychologist and I’m all for it. It is high time she gets some help so she stops dating these pathetic Potato Head Players who aren’t worthy of her.
“That’s awesome Kars,” I enthuse. “What is your mantra?”
She crosses her arms. “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results each time. It’s an Einstein quote.”
“I have one along those lines,” I cry. “Burn me once, shame on you—”
“Burn me