O, Canada! Say My Name!
WHEN TODAY STARTED I thought it was going to be a quiet, gentle day in Terre Haute (That’s French for, “They’re at the door, Jade.”).
Down at St. Arbucks the “Usual Suspects” seemed subdued and even quasi-rational. I should have recognized that as an omen of Strange to Come.
After lunch I accompanied my wife, the lovely and telephonically lethal, Dawn, as she went to buy a new phone. I enjoy being Arm Candy for her. Her first words to the Blue-Shirted guy at Best Buy were, “I murdered my phone.”
The afternoon went from there on a pathway I can only describe as, “This looks familiar, but then again…”
After the phone business we headed to Staples to gorge on 17 cent notebooks and Bic pens. That happens only once a year. It is like a Burmese Python dining on a full grown white-tailed deer. It lasts quite a while before you need to do it again.
I thought that might be the climax of the day, but I was wrong.
We weren’t home more than five minutes when the landline phone began to ring. Nobody ever calls us on that line except wrong numbers and telephone solicitors.
“Hello, John, this is Jade calling from your Canadian pharmacy about refilling your prescription today.”
I was beginning to feel like a hungry Burmese Python and “Jade” sounded like a Doe about to accidentally step on me. I humbly refer you to my blog posting from May 11, 2015 – “Remember, You Called Me.” https://johnkraft.wordpress.com/2015/05/11/remember-you-called-me/
Dawn just shook her head when she heard me say, “Canadian pharmacy – you’re in Canada?” She could read my mind.
I started with, “Jade, Jade, listen to me. I’ve been binge-watching “Breaking Bad” for the last few days and I’m thinking maybe you, being in Canada, might be able to get me some of that Dude’s stuff – some really good Blue Meth.”
“What are you talking about, Mr. Kraft?” All of a sudden it’s no longer the friendly, “John.”
“I’m talking about you being in Canada you don’t have to mess with the Feds. Say my name, Jade! Right? Say my name! I need some really good stuff and you can do it for me.
“Jade, you gotta help me. What’s that, Jade? You hear that? They’re at my door, Jade.”
The confused voice from north of the border tried to interrupt. “What are you talking about? I don’t understand you.”
I’m not stopping for anything even though Dawn is leaving the room.
“Jade, the Feds, they’re at my door. You gotta help me. Jade, hold on a minute. Wait! Here, you talk to them. Jade? Jade? Jade?”
I wonder where she went.
Perhaps my friend, Jade will go to her supervisor in the boiler room and relate her chat with me. Maybe then they will take my name off of their sucker list. If they really are in Canada they don’t give a hoot about any American “no-call lists.” I figure that if; each time they call, they get me and are plugged into the world of some idiot Meth-head who wants to buy illicit drugs from them while the Feds are busting down the door. If this happens often enough they might decide on their own to quietly put an asterisk next to my name with a notation saying. “If you ever call this guy we will set you adrift on an ice floe chained to Howie Mandel.”
And I thought that today was going to be a quiet, rather boring, day.
Thank you, Jade from my friendly Canadian pharmacy. I hope you will recover soon.
If I’m in a good mood, i’ll string them along and see how long they stick with me before hanging up.
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