They say all men turn into their fathers when they get older; unfortunately, this means Rakes and Trot will be obsessive compulsive germaphobes who live and die with a baseball team, causing their wives to mutter under their breath and shoot them dirty looks at dinner time.
It also means I'll eventually turn into MY Pop, who I found this morning perched in front of the computer at the office (it IS his home, so I can't get too upset) composing a letter. Now, I'm naturally thinking this has something to do with the real estate business, his sisters, or he's just forwarding that "send this to 10 people in the next 10 minutes and you'll win a billion pigeons" or something close to it.
Instead, he's full of righteous indignation at DHL for sending him junk mail. Yes, junk mail. The man has a paper shredder, a trash compactor, and about 15 perfectly good trash cans, yet he's COMPELLED to send a letter demanding they stop sending him stuff. In addition to the letter, he's got some poor temp at DHL Corporate near tears as he tells her the following: "If DHL has YOUR attitude, I'm amazed they do any business at all".
All because he got a letter saying they'd like to service his account in a better way. The man is certifiable; when I asked him why he was so worked up, I got a response that included "arrogant people think they can get away with anything, they are just like the mafia", and a Yankee comparison, which I actually sort of went along with.
He got this way once before with the telephone company and apparently some guy named Darrin at the California office is responsible.
Ang, I'd like to apologize for anything similar to this that I'll do in the next 40 years.
You can't fight genetics.
Lunch with My Dad
1 week ago