Welcome to "Same Old Sh*t" Saturday, where I tend to repeat myself, repeat myself. I recently read a newspaper article that said it's a real problem that folks call up the 9-1-1 emergency number for trivial matters such as finding out what time a show at the local movie theater starts. Don't do that!
Dispatcher: 9-1-1, what is the nature of your emergency?
Me: I'm sorry, I’m trying to reach nine-eleven.
Dispatcher: This is nine-eleven.
Me: I thought you just said it was nine-one-one?
Dispatcher: Yes, sir; nine-one-one and nine-eleven are the same thing.
Me: You gotta be sh*ttin’ me. D’ja know I spent $700 on a special phone just so I could have an “11” button. Now that I finally have a chance to use it, you tell me I didn’t even need it. Isn’t that always the way?
Dispatcher: What is the nature of your emergency?
Me: I’m really hungry tonight.
Dispatcher: Excuse me.
Me: I’m staaaaaaaaaarving.
Dispatcher: Sir, this line is for emerg…
Me: Yeah, emergencies, I know… but here’s the thing: in the past when I’ve lost a lot of weight, I’ve inevitably started slipping and before you know it, I’m right back where I was if not worse.
Dispatcher: Sir, is there some sort of trouble at your house?
Me: I’ll say. I was rooting around in the pantry and I found this old bag of Cheesy Chex Mix.
Dispatcher: Chex Mix?
Me: Yeah, it even says it’s low-fat, but the trick they use is that the serving size is about a thimble full.
Dispatcher: I don’t understand…
Me: I used to buy it all the time “for the kids.” Only here’s the thing: I don’t think any of my kids liked Cheesy Chex Mix. Oh Pisa will eat it, I guess, but Sallie Mae and Holly can’t stand the stuff. Yet I bought it every week, and every week I polished the bag off all my my lonesome.
Dispatcher: Sir, 9-1-1 calls are reserved for actual emergencies…
Me: Do you not understand? This stuff is like crack to me. If I eat a handful, it’s gonna be a whole bag and the next thing you know, I’ve got a grocery cart taking the turn to the snack aisle on two wheels.
Dispatcher: Can you not just throw the… the Cheesy Chex Mix in the trash can?
Me: An unopened bag? Are you mad? I’d be back rooting through the trash before you could say “What is the nature of your emergency?” to the next dude that calls.
Dispatcher: Sir, what do you want me to do about it?
Me: I know the firemen and paramedics are busy, but I was thinking that a dog catcher could work. Y'know, because he’s got one of those big nets.
Dispatcher: Sir, I really ought to bust you for tying up the 9-1-1 lines, but it just so happens that I’m fighting a little battle with my weight as well. My advice is for you to flush the offending materials down the facilities and go about your evening. You’ll feel better in the morning.
Me: Okay then. Well, thanks for your time and good luck on your own weight-loss journey.
Dispatcher: You sure you're gonna be okay.
Me: I got this... goodbye old friend.
Dispatcher: Was that to me or the Cheesy Chex Mix?
Me: (sound of toilet flushing and inconsolable sobbing)
Dispatcher: Well, okay then...