Phone Survey!

I just got off the phone with a nice, young person who led me through the most excruciating 10 minutes of my life, not including the time when I gave birth.

I really wish I had taken a video of my reactions while trying to pay attention to the most wordy, repetitive set of questions that have ever been posed to me, not including the time when my wife asked me to marry her.

But since I did not take any such video, let me try to describe what my face and body must have looked like. Ever eat a block of cheese and then, several hours later, attempt to eliminate personal waste? I will say no more.

But I did gain something from the experience. I learned that I am an uniformed troglodyte with a dangerously short attention span and repressed anger issues. I hope the sponsors of this survey are happy that I now hate myself.

I also learned that, according to the survey sponsors, I am white or caucasion. WELL, WHICH IS IT?! I really can’t live with that level of¬†indeterminacy. Thanks again, asses.

But perhaps the worst part of the survey came at the end. You know, the part where you have to identify your household income range. Typically, I rejoice at this portion, not because I make so much money that I look forward to the opportunity to brag, but because it means that we are almost done and I can get back to living what little is left of my life.

But not this time. The brilliant authors of this survey decided to start at $5,000 per year and move up, seemingly one dollar point at at time. After what seemed like an eternity, I blurted out at the top of my lungs, YES, WE MAKE ONLY $15,000 A YEAR PLEASE STOP FOR GOD’S SAKE!

Now I have to inform my wife that we live well below the poverty line. This’ll make her day.