you're a dumb fucking human and i hope you never make it to college.in fact, i don't have to hope: you just won't. because you can't even type your own god damn phone number correctly when you sign up with degree-finding websites.
while you were likely sleeping and dreaming about jersey shore or whatever it is that dumb people dream about, i was trying to convince an army of operators that i am not you. i am not natalie forsyth, i am just an illustrator who really thought it might be neat to sleep.
i'm sure your hunt for a cheap degree out-weighs my hunt for a steady job, but here is why i'm mad:
last night, i was awake til 6:30am trying to finish up new illustration projects in hopes to squeeze enough cash out of nowhere to pay rent. i had it pretty figured out and knew i could get a solid five hours of sleep without sleeping through the rest of the day as long as i was in bed before 7am.
and i was. all tucked in and shit.
now, it is a scientific fact that the average human requires seven minutes to fall asleep. it is also a scientific fact the average human requires the absence of the theme song to pee wee's big adventure to fall asleep.
unfortunately, exactly seven minutes after i laid down my phone started ringing. also unfortunately, my ringtone is the theme song to pee wee's big adventure.
but when you're strapped for cash you have no choice but to answer every call you get at any time of day in hopes it may be a new job. so i answered the call in my best "i'm not half-asleep" voice only to find that the operator was looking for you, natalie.
i told her that i was not you and that she had the wrong number.
then, at 8:02am, a different number rang my phone and woke me up. this operator was also hoping i might be you. unfortunately for them, i still was not.
at 9:07am, a third number called for you and i nearly told them to fuck off but resisted the urge because i know what it's like to be on the other end of one of those calls. it was not the operators' faults that you are blindingly retarded and can't manage to type the numbers of you cell phone in the proper order.
no wonder you need to sign up for help to find a degree.
9:12am, you were called through my phone again.
then, when a new operator called at 9:31am, i pretended that they might have had the right number. i asked for their company name, your last name, and your current city before informing them quite firmly that the number they were calling did not belong to you and that i have no idea who you are, and that i'm starting to hate you.
10:09am, pee wee's big adventure. i quietly lost my shit. i am not natalie forsyth. i am a man who wanted very badly to go to sleep for five hours but wound up with a series of inefficient cat-naps instead.
"sir," she said impatiently, "this is the first time i've called you."
"you, shut up!" i spat through my delirious teeth, "what the fuck is so important that i am being called every ten minutes since 6:30am? what is it?"
"we're looking for natalie," she said calmly.
"I KNOW YOU'RE LOOKING FOR HER AND I'VE TOLD THE LAST FIVE OPERATORS I AM NOT NATALIE! FOR FUCK'S SAKE, STOP CALLING ME, I NEED TO SLEEP BEFORE 11AM!"
"sir," the lady continued, "i'm sorry that you feel this way, and i will certainly take note of it. but you don't need to yell at me. i just work here."
she was right even though she was wrong. i did need to yell at her because i was at my wit's end and you weren't around to yell at. but i had promised myself i wouldn't take it out on the operators who were merely calling the number you provided. furthermore, each call came from a separate college-searching company that you had whored my cell to. i couldn't expect all five companies to know you are too stupid to coordinate your fingers long enough to string together the proper ten digits to your phone. it wasn't their fault-- they just work there.
or maybe you intentionally typed the wrong number, wanting some kind of free promo for some kind of stupid toy-- maybe you thought as long as you typed a number that wasn't yours, no one would ever be called because as long as you're not called the calls must magically cease to exist in the world. i mean, that's logical. it's not like some regular fella might have that number and be harassed by the trillions of companies you signed up with.
because of you, i spent the next hour chasing down the proper managers from every company in order to have my phone number deleted from their list. and if you have ever tried to find someone with actual power or responsibility in a call center, you likely know how hard that was.
but i dare say you likely know nothing. you likely woke up at noon, ate a bagel, and blamed your roommate for finishing the cream cheese without buying any more.
meanwhile, i climbed furiously through the toll-free 888 numbers, and 866 numbers, the 415's and the 510's, too. the holds and the automated spanish-speaking operators. and when i finally got through it all, my alarm went off. it was time for me to wake up and start my day.
thank you, natalie. thank you very much.
really stop to think over what i've said. i was woken up at 6:37am-- seven minutes after i went to bed-- then 8:02, 9:09, 9:12, 9:31, and 10:09am because you not only typed my phone number instead of yours, but also because you put that number on the worst websites. to be woken up like that, to be teased with the idea of sleep all the way till the moment your alarm goes off... it's like i've been tortured. this is worse than having not slept at all. i feel like i've been psychologically tortured.
i hope you really were eating a bagel while i was suffering, and i hope you never got your cream cheese. i hope your bagel was burnt in the toaster, and i hope your scraped the roof of your mouth when you tried to eat it. i hope that happens every single time you eat a bagel from here on out.
i tried to find you on facebook so i could friend you and then habitually like every single thing on your wall and invite you to join every group i can find. but you're not on facebook. probably because you don't have any friends.
but one day you will google yourself and you will find this message. and on that day i expect an apology via phone. after all, it's not like you don't know my phone number.
FKDGHSH:Kly,
president wishnack
p.s. - i know that's not a picture of you. it's a young ryan seacrest. but it's pretty much how i imagine you to look.
p.p.s. - imma getchoo. oh, imma getchoo.
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