This morning (by "this" I mean "Friday") at 7:58 -- yes, 7:58 a.m. -- I received a call from Amber at Sunstream Travel, offering me -- you guessed it -- a free four-day cruise on Royal Caribbean. And you're not gonna believe this: if I could come in and listen to their hour-long presentation either today or tomorrow, they would throw in airfare as well. And then I would be entered in the Ultimate Sports Giveaway. According to Amber, I had signed up for this at a Cubs game. If this sounds at all familiar, it's because I received the same fucking call less than two weeks ago from Sundance Vacations (which, as you may have guessed, is one in the same as Sunstream). Amber, insolent as always, insisted that I come in as early as 4 p.m. this afternoon (with my wife, of course) to attend a presentation. As tactfully as I could, I explained that I am having a two-day party/skullfucking orgy/wine tasting, so this weekend is bad for me.
Amber: "Aww, that's unfortunate."
Me: "Uh, not for me."
Amber: "Well the thing is, I can only give you the free airfare if you come in today or tomorrow. Are you sure there's not an hour you can squeeze in tomorrow?"
Me: "Oh, I thought you asked me for Sally Ride's alma mater."
Amber: "No, I was asking if you could come in for an hour tomorrow?"
Me: "Amber, the only thing I'm going to come in for an hour tomorrow is an eye socket."
Amber: "Boy, I walked right into that one!"
(She laughs for a few seconds, while I cackle loudly and uncomfortably for several minutes.)
Me: "Amber, you are a stitch. In all honesty, even if I did have an hour to spare tomorrow, I don't think I'd be up for anything. Quite frankly, drinking Chablis all day and skullfucking -- especially the receiving end -- take a lot out of me. Maybe call me earlier in the morning next time."
Amber: "Okay, well let me give you my number and extension in case anything changes."
Me: "I'm gonna have to go with Jim . . . fucking . . . Plunkett."
Me: "You asked me 'Who was the only Stanford grad to win the Heisman and the Super Bowl?' Jim Plunkett. What's the deal with your Stanford fixation? Is that part of the Ultimate Sports Giveaway? A trip to Palo Alto to watch the Stanford women's cross country team compete in a running competition against other colleges' teams?"
Amber: "I asked if I could give you my number."
Me: "I'd be delighted. Just don't tell my wife!"
(She laughs for a few seconds, while I laugh loudly for several minutes. It's not so much laughing as it is howling like a werewolf.)
Amber: "1-800-blah blah blah . . ."
(At this point I was tuning her out while arranging some skulls.)
Me: "Uh huh, mm hmm, uh huh. Oh a six. I wasn't expecting that. But then again I should've, given that the Stanford women's cross country team will be competing for their sixth national title this year. Uh huh, uh huh, mm-kay. Got it. Amber, this has been a treat, hasn't it?"
Amber: "There wasn't a six anywhere in the number."
Me: "Nonsense. Now let me speak to Melanie at once!"