When I Spell S-M-R-T, You Say Me!

When I come home and find my answering machine blinking the assumption is made that someone left me a message while I was away from my humble nest gathering twigs and leaves, to make a living. And hey, if you make more than I do and live in a house that costs more than mine the message tonight is to sod off. Tomorrow I'll probably find the only person who still qualifies to talk to me is Humble Bob from down the ways... he lives in a tent made of turkey feet and squirrel tails. I have no idea what my fingers are typing right now. Why doesn't anyone stop me when I do stuff like this?

Imagine my surprise when, on a regular basis the messages aren't even for Mr. Stinky or me. Ha! You thought it should be "Mr. Stinky or I" didn't you? You thought you'd caught me in some grammatical flub but you didn't because it's not. Shut up and just read OK? Tonight I received three messages, two of which were specifically addressed to Jason something. When my machine clearly enunciates "Hi you've reached Mr. Stinky and Stinky T. Please leave a message, we'll get back to you. Thank you!" I'm not joking, it means exactly that. I didn't record a generic, nameless message, it doesn't say "the Smiths", "Santos and the clan", or even "Isaac, Lloyd, Muriel, Jennifer, Wing Tse and Jack Jr.". Just two names. Which means two people in the household and neither of us are there to pick up the phone.

So why then are these neanderthals disregarding my cheerful greeting to leave full and detailed messages for nonexistent Brandon Johnson or Sally Waters? I. Don't. Get. I realize you want to discuss banking options with your clients, or find available workers for tomorrow but you grossly overestimate my altruistic nature if you think I'm going to hunt down these people to pass along your plea for a return call. You're also confusing my powers of identity transference, all those people you're asking for... I can't become them just because you asked, nor do they live in my head. If you want to get into my schizophrenic world you're going to have to do better than that. You'd need to get the names correct for that too.

Finally, dear telephone operating people, spruce up those listening skills. Whether it be by cleaning the gunk out of your ears or understanding my simple command of the English language, leave a message for the right person. It's not that hard to match up the name on the paper in front of you to the one you hear on my machine. Thank you and have a nice day. Beeep.