830, this morning..."Ian, phone."
Hello?
Curl, what's up man?
What's up, John?
Did I wake you up?
Yeah, but it's all good; I was supposed to be up an hour ago to run. What's up?
Nothing much, I pissed some people off today.
Already?
Yeah, I made a shirt that said 'Impeach Bush' on it and got yelled at by this sixty-year-old guy. He called me a 'faggot' and shit and threaten to kick my ass 'rabble rabble' and call the corporate office 'rabble rabble'. I think I really pissed him off when I told him to have a great day, and not in a smart-ass tone, either.
Wow, really? That's great.
And this other guy asked me why we should impeach the president, so I told him about the Downing Street Memo and everything. He kept saying, 'oh, so you want them to come over and put bombs in our planes and blow-up our buildings?' I told him no, but he didn't really listen...
Well, just be careful, man. Remember that you're not just fending for yourself...
What do you mean? I'm sure if someone were to kill me over a fucking shirt they'd start some kind of fund in my name.
Nah, but what about company policy? Could you be fired? You know Sam's is just an extension of Wal-Mart...
Nah, politics are fair game, just as long as I don't wear anything offensive, like 'fuck bush' or 'dead fetuses taste good,' I'm ok.
Haha, right on.
But, my manager asked me to take it off, since that old fuck threatened to call corporate.
Bummer, dude...
John's down in Florida...need I say more?
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