The Problem With Telephones
I applied for a membership at one of those video stores, and I had to give them all of my personal information.
Well, not all of the personal information. Thank goodness they didn't start asking the really tough questions about sex, or I would have been there a while. And that girl behind the counter would have been quite impressed.
Anyway, the girl takes my information and turns around. A minute later she turns back and says, "I'm sorry, we can't verify your phone number."
Well, obviously not, shithead. If I just handed you my home phone number, and I'm still standing in front of you, I'm not going to be home to answer your call. It's not a matter of bad credit, it's a simple matter of physics. I venture to guess that if you were to knock on my door right now, I probably wouldn't be able to answer you there, either.
If I were filling out your application in my living room, your little phone quandry would be solved in a heartbeat.
As it is now, there's still a few bugs to work out.
So I accused her of not having a car, because she wasn't currently sitting in one, and the evening went downhill from there.
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