The phone rang today at work, so I answered, which I'm unfortunately obligated to do. It was an old hag from a neighboring town, whose first mistake was calling my article, which appeared in today's newspaper, a column.
"You don't know how to spell, do you?" the whore asked, after immediately telling me, upon answering the phone, that she had a problem with my "column."
This was her second mistake. Don't patronize me, bitch. While you were busy cross-stitching I was receiving a college degree in journalism. The one thing you do not do is tell me I don't know how to spell.
"Yes. I know how to spell," I told her, while in my head I was stabbing her in the heart with a trident.
"Oh, really? Because here, in your column, you spelled 'role' as r-o-l-l," she replied, matter-of-factly.
Immediately I chastised myself for the honest, grammatical error, which happens from time to time when you sit in front of a computer typing words eight hours a day.
"Well, that was an honest error which, apparently, I did not catch. Nor did our editors," I coughed, still not believing the old coot was calling me to complain about this, as if, perhaps, I wrote an article declaring Jesus Christ was a woman.
"OK," she said, still not impressed. "Do you know how to spell role?"
Oh, no, she didn't just ask me that.
"OK, good, I just - "