April 28th, 2005


Later, Bitch...

Let me preface this entry by saying that the predominant ethnicity in my heritage that I associate with is the Italian in me. As "An Italian" I have certain information genetically encoded into my brain, the first and formost piece being "My mother is a saint." The second and not quite so formost piece being "Fuck with my mother and I'll make you so miserable you'll WISH you had only woken up with a horse's head in your bed."

So yesterday we got several calls from AmStar Mortgage company. They were calling for... wait for it... my mom! She just happened to be constantly running out and missing the calls. Well, around 8:30, they finally caught up with her, and I was privy to her side of the conversation that went something like this:

"Hi there... Yeah, we're both really busy and it's hard to catch us at home.... Okay, good... Yeah, if you could lower the house payment by that much I might be interested... Wait, what?... No, I don't think I want to do that... I'm sorry, no. Rolling my car payments into a thirty year mortgage is NOT something I want to do... Okay, look, I am starting to get uncomfortable here... No, sir, you need to listen to me, this is my home and my finances and I have just told you no repeatedly... Okay, we're ending this conversation..."

Then she got a quizzical look on her face and hung up the phone gently. I asked her what the hell that was all about and she said, "He told me I wasn't even giving him the time of day, then said "Later Bitch" and hung up."

It was at that point that I got my Irish up. It's funny, being Italian AND Irish, because I can do that, you know.

Star 69 is my friend. I immediately got the number that had just called the house and called it back. Unfortunately, since it was after hours, I had to leave a message on their General Messages line which went something like this* "This is Klae's dad. It is 8:30 PM Pacific time on Wednesday, and my wife just got a call from Vic with your company which he ended with the phrase "Later Bitch" and hung up on her because she wasn't interested in your services. This is totally unacceptable, and I fully expect a call back tomorrow at (phone numma of my parents) by one of your senior staff to apologize to her for the abominable treatment."

I hung up, my mom snickered and said something about me not sounding like my dad, and she went about her way all sorts of satisfied.

I wasn't done, though. I took the phone number, and the name I got off their answering machine and went to the Intarweb. The blessed Intarweb gods not only gave me the number for the corporate headquarters, but the direct line to the Vice President of marketing.

He had quite the pleasant voicemail waiting for him today.

He called my dad back, apologizing profusely. He had already spoken with Vic, who denied everything, and Mr. VP didn't believe him. Unfortunately Vic worked for a "lending partner" or something, so wasn't terminatable my Mr. VP, but Mr. BP got on the horn with that office's office manager, and dad got a call from HIM, too.

So Vic, wherever you are, I totally hope you rot in a hell filled with women who won't give you the time of day you stupid fucking fuck fuck.

Don't piss me off

* For the purposes of the voicemails I portrayed my father, because calling and saying "You just called my mom" didn't sound nearly as intimidating.