So I was home alone one night and decided to make myself a burger with onions. Apparently the chopped onions I found in the fridge had been there longer than I thought. I went to bed feeling just fine but woke up at 1 in the morning with the most horrific food poisoning known to man. Or at least to me. I'll spare you the nasty details, but just say that this was one of those nights where the only place you can stand to be is on the bathroom floor with the cool tile under you and a towel for a blanket. And you can barely stand that. And you've talked to God more in the past hour than in the past twenty-three days combined. By nine A.M. I thought I was dying. Or maybe I just wished that I would die and get it over with. Whichever it was, it was bad enough that I decided maybe I should go to the hospital. I didn't even know if you're supposed to go to the hospital for food poisoning, I just needed it to STOP! I called Hubby at work and asked him to come home and take me to the ER. The thought of going to the hospital looking the way I imagined I looked gave me just enough energy to stand up so I could change out of my nightgown into some real clothes. I've been to the ER before; I remember what people look like there. I didn't want to look like that. Well, okay, I probably already DID look like that, but I certainly didn't want anyone seeing me like that! So anyway, I'm standing there, trying to remember how clothes work, when the phone rings. I assumed Hubby was calling me back, so I answered it. Instead, it was a Discover Card telemarketer on the line to whom I semi-politely said, "I'm sorry I can't talk right now." When he kept talking, I said, "Listen, I really can't talk now, I'm very sick." To which HE said, "Why did you answer the phone if you're sick?" And not in a polite, concerned about my health and well-being way but in a way that said he thought I was lying. I snapped, "Because I thought it might be my husband who is on his way here to take me to the hospital. Where do YOU get off asking me that, anyway?" He then said, "Well, Mrs. Kean, I'm authorized to waive the activation fee..." and I hung up. Did he really think he still had a chance for a sale? I can just imagine his thought process: "Ooh, maybe she has a fever. If I keep her on the phone long enough, she might become delirious and sign up for the Super Platinum Deluxe Card with the Mega-Executive Insurance Protection Package!" Seriously, though... now that I think about it, waiving the activation fee is probably the number one suggestion in the telemarketers handbook, "101 Ways to Tick People Off Before Realizing There are Better Career Paths". I mean seriously, how better to win over an ornery, on-her-death-bed customer than to WAIVE THE ACTIVATION FEE? It's brilliant! OR... perhaps it was a reasonable answer to my question. Maybe the fact that he holds such powerful authorization automatically gives him the right to question my motivation for answering the phone. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I'm beginning to realize that perhaps I'M the one who was out of line and maybe I should call Discover Card back and apologize. I wonder if they'll still waive the activation fee?
