The Curious Case of the Cretin and the Carriage

"What fools these mortals be..."

[Typed while on the way to Barbados]

Retail, as they say, isn’t easy, and while Corb loves owning his own business, from the perspective of one who loves and adores him, I think the biggest challenge with dealing with the public is the fact that you have to...well, deal with the public. They come in all shapes and sizes, and unfortunately, one of those sizes is crazy.

Take, for example, the events of last Friday afternoon. I had been in the office for the entire week, and at around five in the afternoon, just dying for Corb to pick me up. It had been a long week, involving quite a bit of travel and an overnight in Boston for a Satellite Media Tour, and with practically everyone else in the building long gone, I was more than ready to call it a day, although I knew Corb worked until 530, and wouldn’t be there til six, meaning my Friday night martini was going to be a while. Man, we really do need to get a second car one of these days.

And then I received his text message: 

Something bad happened. Going to be a lot later than six.

WHA? What’s going on? I went into mildly frantic mode, and immediately called him up. He picked up on the first ring. “Can’t talk now.”

“What’s going on?”

“Customer freaked out on us. Police are here. Have to talk to them.”

“Are you–”

“I’m fine.” That was all I got out of him. 

Oh lovely, stuck in the office all alone for god knows how long. In solace, I called my sister Kerrie.

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