* * * Years ago when I was working for Fred’s company – I think it was after we’d gotten married, but before (obviously) I quit – I walked into my office after spending the morning running company errands, and picked up my phone to see if I had any voicemail. I did, in fact, have voicemail, and after I listened to it, I went to see which owners were present in the office so they could listen to it as well. (Note: There are three owners of Fred’s company: Fred, Tex (who longtime readers will remember; I had a lot of good stuff up in my journal about Tex, but took it down when Tex “discovered” Fred’s OneF/Phatman journal, because we figured it was only a matter of time before he found mine as well, and let’s just say I am not fond of Tex and wasn’t shy about expressing that opinion at length), and Taz.) Tex was out of the office, so Taz and Fred came to my office and I put my phone on speakerphone and replayed the message for them. “Hi,” said a very familiar voice. “This is Newt Gingrich, and I have a very important message for you. If you’d please give me a call back at (number), I’d like to discuss it with you. This is of the utmost importance.” Instantly, Taz and Fred got very, very excited (I’d like to say I was cool and calm, but I was about bouncing off the walls, too). Like I’ve said in the past, Fred’s company does contract work for a government agency and they are very good at what they do. I could almost see the dollar signs in Taz’s eyes, and he suggested that Newt Gingrich had heard about what a good job the company had been doing, and wanted to offer them a job doing the same kind of work for the entire country. Maybe the world! He was pretty much giddy from the thrill of it all. Taz put the phone on speakerphone and carefully dialed the number I’d written down. He sat back in my chair, trying to remain calm, and we listened to the phone ring. Suddenly, it was picked up, and we heard “Hi, this is Newt Gingrich -” and Taz ceased to even make an attempt at being cool. He shot forward until his face was an inch from the phone, and he said in a low, come-hither voice, “Hellooooooooo Mr. Gingrich!” Newt, however, kept on going. “Your call is very important to us, and the next available operator will be with you shortly.” Nonplussed, we stood around and waited for the next available operator. When someone picked up and said “Hi, you’ve reached Newt Gingrich’s office…”, Taz picked up the phone and spent the next few minutes arguing with the operator, saying that he wanted to speak directly to Newt, that Newt had left a personal message. Turns out it was a recording. Imagine that, huh? It was a recording, and the very important matter Newt wanted to discuss was the company making a donation to something or other. You’ve never seen three more disappointed people in your entire life. We must have moped around the office for the rest of the day, all pissed off that we’d gotten excited over what ended up being a frickin’ telemarketing call. I tell you this story so that now I can tell you that “Hellooooooooo Mr. Gingrich!” has become one of the phrases that Fred and I will say out of the blue, for no apparent reason. I’ll be sitting in front of my computer and he’ll be sitting in front of his, and I’ll sigh and say “Okay, you stupid thing…” and all of a sudden Fred will pipe up and say “Helloooooooo Mr. Gingrich!” Or we’ll be laying in bed talking and Fred will be telling me a story about hiking, and I’ll say “Hellooooooo Mr. Gingrich!” It’s probably sad to admit this, but it makes me laugh every single time.
Oh my god, oh my GOD, he is STARVING, how can you be in the kitchen and NOT giving him ALL the food in the house, he’s STARVING!
“Is someone in the kitchen? OH MY GOD! SOMEONE’S IN THE KITCHEN!”
Just for the record, there’s an entire cat bed on the other side of the desk. And it’s empty.
Jodie snuggles up to Fred’s butt. Isn’t it nice of him to leave just enough room at the back of his chair for a snuggly little kitten?
He sleeps like a rock, that one.