If Tarantino Texts, You Text Back
(I have just bought a new smart-phone and tablet. My 16-year-old son is at home alone and doesn’t know I have the phone yet. I text him on my way home, but he has no idea whose number is texting him. Also, we don’t know anyone named Scott.)
Me: “Hey. Got the body in the trunk. You got the shovels?”
Son: “Yes. Where are you at?”
Me: “Dude, on my way b there in 20.”
Son: “Okay!”
Me: “Sweet. Don’t forget to tell Scott that I gots the briefcase too. Dude! This is so awesome!”
Son: “Who is this?”
Me: “Oh yeah! Tell Scott to leave the old lady at home. Don’t needs no baby mama drama.”
Son: “Who is this?”
Me: “Bro, we have been planning this for weeks. Don’t go all mental on me now.”
Son: “D:”
Me: “Be ready to go dude, almost there.”
Son: “Mkay.”
Me: “I will honk the horn when I get there. S***, u got that tarp like I told you to get? And bleach. We need bleach.”
Son: “Yes, sir!”
Me: “Oh, and donuts man. Scott loves him some donuts.”
Son: “Okay!”
Me: “No sprinkles though. Gives him the s***’s. Did Scott say the old lady is staying home? Hope so, that b**** be trippin.”
Son: “I haven’t heard from Scott.”
Me: “Text him again. Will be at ur place in about 5 minutes. Ur in the front apartment right?”
Son: “Yes, sir. And yes!”
Me: “Bro, stop calling me sir. Creeps me out.”
Son: “Okay.”
Me: “Have them shovels ready boy.”
Son: “Okay!”
(We drove by honking the horn and parked around the side of the house. We then went up to the door and started pounding on it loudly; the only thing my boy said was ‘Come in!”)
Question of the Week
Have you ever served a bad customer who got what they deserved?
