...telling her to go away. The other day I got a note in the mail with the exciting news that my household had been selected to partake in a gov't funded survey about health insurance, availability, yadda, yadda, snore...
The note said to expect somebody from RTI who was contracted by Barry and The Man to conduct this oh... so...vital... research. "And be sure to ask for photo ID! If they don't have it, they aren't from RTI!" So I'm sitting here a few minutes ago, goofing on the computer when the dogs freak out. Not that that is unusual. I got up, and could see a silhouette in the window. I waited a sec to see if ol' neckbone at the door would knock or just stand there. (Turns out that this is a boring game.) I got tired of waiting and yanked to door open to be greeted by a startled no-make-up natural-fiber-wearing granola chick.
"Hi! You must have received the good news about this important survey. It'll only take a few minutes. Here's my ID" which she the showed to the dogs as if she were actually being cute.
"We won't be participating"
"But it will only take a few minutes and it is very important!"
"Like I said, we won't be participating."
"But the info we collect will be kept strictly confidential and will ensure that you are being properly represented."
"If I were being properly represented, I wouldn't have gov't survey takers standing on my porch asking me personal questions. Bye Bye."
"But it will only take a second!"
"The next thing I say will be the magic word that turns you into dog chow. Goodbye."
"Well, you're a nice one!" as she sneered as she left.
Heh. Stupid liberal. They always fall for the "you're gonna be dog chow" trick.