Excuse me? Excuse me? Did I stutter? Did I fucking stutter? Yes, you may have one from the dozens box in the break room, at the end of our dull routine rainbow. Take whatever one you like, take it if you touched it, take it ‘like a jelly roll,’ but don’t ask any more questions about what any of it means. Take, enjoy it, enjoy it, but shut up about it, shut up. The customer service rep is past the point of being flustered. His ‘cat got your tongue’ stutter is sweating, we can hear the sweat beads in his voice as the compact disc continues to spin. Begging, pleading, ‘swearing like a sailor.’ Hang up the phone. Just hang up. Hang up before I hang you. One click and one MCI pin drop later and it’s ‘back to the boiler room,’ the BLCR Lab with 아버지. All the other reps are laughing, leaning back in their office chairs, leaning all the way back, their ponytails touching the concrete floor; their merry eyes bore into the swiss ceiling tiles. Click…*click…*click…*click…*click.
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