The other day I was at work and my cell phone rang. I normally ignore it, because, you know, I’m working and if I don’t recognize your number, you can leave a message. But it was a weird area code that I didn’t recognize and I was all alone in the office, so I answered it.
“Is this Wendy?”
“Yeah, it is. How can I help you?”
“This is Gary, your fellow NRA member calling.”
(Note: I joined the NRA once because it was free and I had too much time on my hands. It was hilarious for about 45 seconds and then that’s when they started sending me shit in the mail at least once a week.)
“Well, hi, Gary. What’s up?”
“Your membership is about to expire.”
“Good,” I said, because I was crabby anyway that day.
“Good? Did you know that President Obama is trying to pass a law that will outlaw semi-automatic guns?”
“Yeah, I mean, I think semi-automatic guns are actually kind of stupid.”
… Gary is silent.
“So how do I renew?”
And then he hung up on me. I WIN.