I am one rude dude. Let me ‘splain. Yesterday morning, I was at work and decided to call my pal, the Meester. I picked up the phone (which is a minor miracle in itself; I don’t really do the phone thing), and dialed his number. The call went something like this:
*chaclick* “Hello?”
“Yo!!! Meester!! Meestaroni! Ma man! Meester Man! Ma main Manster!!! The Mansteroni! How’s it going buddy? It’s the Boozer! What up, like, dawg?”
“Well......”
“Big daddy-o!! How’s work? How’s the Missus? How’s the mini?? How’s it hangin’? haha!! Hangin’. Hoo!”
“Well....”
“Oh crap, dude. I just realized that I have a meeting. Like, now. I’ll have to call you back. Take it easy, bro. Bro-ster! The bro-man! Haha! Later dude!”
“Ummm.....ok then I’ll just......”
*chaclick*
Yeah, I think my social graces and phone skills might need a little buffing up.
You neglected to mention that your manners recovered and you called me back. And, you were polite enough to nicely turn down the guy’s night where we feasted upon fried haggis. hrm...the latter might be construed as bad manners, but I think you recovered well.
Also, Meesteroni makes me sound like some Italian porn star, don’t it?
Don’t let your mother know!