Cable Guy
I realized recently that a lot of the stories I used to tell on this blog end up in emails I send to Canada. I don't like to write a tale twice so this blog is getting short shrift. I like this one, though, so I'm gonna tell it again. Toronto got the advanced press preview. Wicked VIP.
This morning the doorbell rang at 8am. I was still in bed with my eyes open but I wasn't ready to get up and like, face the cats. Shirtless Jesse ambles to the front door, opens it wide. "Hello?" Oh it's the cable guy. But what gives? We didn't have an appointment or anything.
"Good morning sir. Is this 209 Summer, third floor?"
"No, this is the first floor. That's why we're on the ground."
posted by jesse @ 2:00 PM
6 Comments:
almost as good as the confused delivery man who found his way into our kitchen last night in search of 'sean'. hope the zany bastard found who he was looking for.
Oh man, how could I forget? Jon and I were sitting around talking when all of a sudden there was a dude in the kitchen. Ballsy delivery driver had let himself in...to the wrong apartment! We played it very cool, I must say.
Don't those employees have a comptency quiz they take or something? For crying out loud, Kmart and Walmart and every other "mart" make you take one.
"Hello? Is this Common Sense 101, room 215?"
"No sorry this is Street Smarts 101, room 142. You can tell by the number on the door..."
That rules. Also, I have a suggestion regarding not wanting to type out a story twice: CUT AND PASTE! Don't neglect your blogging duties!
p- good jokin'
m- I like to keep it pure
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