Post by aqueousmartini on Jun 14, 2004 11:42:27 GMT -5
When asked what Dylan wanted to be when he grew up, Dylan would proudly answer, “I’m gonna be a superhero!” This would have been quite cute and touching had Dylan not been fourteen. At his age, it was just plain weird.
Dylan’s late night infomercial surfing had finally paid off. It was just past eleven, and he stumbled across an ad for, as the man had put it, “THE CHANCE OF A LIFETIME!” And, wouldn’t you know, he’d proceeded to talk about superhero training. Dylan’s theory that all your problems could be solved with the correct infomercial were proved, and he quickly dialed the number.
After fourteen years on this earth, Dylan should have remembered that you must be at least eighteen to order something. But he didn’t, which resulted in the following conversation.
“Hi, I’d like to sign up for Superhero Training,” said Dylan.
“Hun, are you over eighteen? You don’t sound like it,” said the operator in a bored voice.
“Oh… Ah… Well, you see…” stammered Dylan. Crud. Double crud. Triple quadruple crud.
“Well, ya gotta be at least eighteen to order. Okay? Have a nice-“
“Wait! Please, don’t hang up! Can’t you make an exception? This is really important to me!” Dylan asked, slightly desperate. Slightly? He was extremely desperate.
“Hun, no exceptions can be made, all right? So, unless you’re over eighteen, no Superhero Training sign ups shall be made.” Dylan heard the dial tone, stuck his tongue out at the phone, and hurriedly dialed again.
“Hi. Please, can’t you bend the rules just a bit?” he pleaded.
“Gawd, you again?” said the operator incredulously. “For the last time, no!”
“But…” stammered Dylan. He heard her hang up again, causing Dylan to mutter a few words he hadn’t realized he even knew. He dialed again.
“Come on, please?” he said, but before he’d even managed to get the sentence out, she’d already hung up. He would have thrown the phone across the room, but, luckily, he realized that would not be the best course of action. So, he looked around, spied a sock, and tossed that at the wall. Not as satisfying, but at least he wouldn’t get in big trouble. Then, he picked up the phone and dialed, the number already half-way memorized.
“Will you just hear me out on this?” Dylan said quickly, as soon as she picked up.
“GAH! YOU AGAIN?” she yelled, causing Dylan to hold the phone several inches from his face. “I’M GOING TO GET A RESTRAINING ORDER IF YOU DON’T STOP CALLING!” Then, he heard the phone being handed over to someone else.
“Are you giving one of our operators trouble?” said a stern male voice.
“Ah… Nooo…” said Dylan innocently. “I just wanted to be enrolled in the Superhero Training program!”
“Well, are you over eighteen?” asked the man.
“I will be in four years!” Dylan said hopefully. “That’s close enough, right?”
“No, it’s not!” said the man angrily. “If you call again, I’ll-“
“But!” said Dylan, seeing his chance and seizing it. “If you enrolled me, I wouldn’t call anymore!” The man sighed audibly.
“Ugh, fine.” And so, Dylan was enrolled in Superhero Training. Sometimes it pays to be annoying. Not a lot, but every once in a while. And it serves those infomercial makers right. They had it coming; they should have made them more interesting.
To Be Continued...
Dylan’s late night infomercial surfing had finally paid off. It was just past eleven, and he stumbled across an ad for, as the man had put it, “THE CHANCE OF A LIFETIME!” And, wouldn’t you know, he’d proceeded to talk about superhero training. Dylan’s theory that all your problems could be solved with the correct infomercial were proved, and he quickly dialed the number.
After fourteen years on this earth, Dylan should have remembered that you must be at least eighteen to order something. But he didn’t, which resulted in the following conversation.
“Hi, I’d like to sign up for Superhero Training,” said Dylan.
“Hun, are you over eighteen? You don’t sound like it,” said the operator in a bored voice.
“Oh… Ah… Well, you see…” stammered Dylan. Crud. Double crud. Triple quadruple crud.
“Well, ya gotta be at least eighteen to order. Okay? Have a nice-“
“Wait! Please, don’t hang up! Can’t you make an exception? This is really important to me!” Dylan asked, slightly desperate. Slightly? He was extremely desperate.
“Hun, no exceptions can be made, all right? So, unless you’re over eighteen, no Superhero Training sign ups shall be made.” Dylan heard the dial tone, stuck his tongue out at the phone, and hurriedly dialed again.
“Hi. Please, can’t you bend the rules just a bit?” he pleaded.
“Gawd, you again?” said the operator incredulously. “For the last time, no!”
“But…” stammered Dylan. He heard her hang up again, causing Dylan to mutter a few words he hadn’t realized he even knew. He dialed again.
“Come on, please?” he said, but before he’d even managed to get the sentence out, she’d already hung up. He would have thrown the phone across the room, but, luckily, he realized that would not be the best course of action. So, he looked around, spied a sock, and tossed that at the wall. Not as satisfying, but at least he wouldn’t get in big trouble. Then, he picked up the phone and dialed, the number already half-way memorized.
“Will you just hear me out on this?” Dylan said quickly, as soon as she picked up.
“GAH! YOU AGAIN?” she yelled, causing Dylan to hold the phone several inches from his face. “I’M GOING TO GET A RESTRAINING ORDER IF YOU DON’T STOP CALLING!” Then, he heard the phone being handed over to someone else.
“Are you giving one of our operators trouble?” said a stern male voice.
“Ah… Nooo…” said Dylan innocently. “I just wanted to be enrolled in the Superhero Training program!”
“Well, are you over eighteen?” asked the man.
“I will be in four years!” Dylan said hopefully. “That’s close enough, right?”
“No, it’s not!” said the man angrily. “If you call again, I’ll-“
“But!” said Dylan, seeing his chance and seizing it. “If you enrolled me, I wouldn’t call anymore!” The man sighed audibly.
“Ugh, fine.” And so, Dylan was enrolled in Superhero Training. Sometimes it pays to be annoying. Not a lot, but every once in a while. And it serves those infomercial makers right. They had it coming; they should have made them more interesting.
To Be Continued...