T-Mobile, can I work for you? Can I be your spokesperson? Can we just forget for the moment that my whole family uses Verizon? Would it make any difference if I tell you that their marketing approach sucks in comparison to yours? I’d much rather use a phone from a company who doesn’t ask if I can hear them now while standing in the middle of a cornfield ten miles south of East Jesus but rather, greets me at the gate, puts a smile on my face and makes me totally forget about the previous hour in which I was perilously close to being smothered by a large mammal while strapped into a ginormous vibrator with wings.
In the alternative, can you guys just shoot me an email and tell me where your next flashmob is happening? I’d appreciate a heads up so that I can ensure I have my passport ready and enough therapy and/or Xanax and/or tequila under my belt so as to not totally freak out and scream SWEET! IT’S THE CAST OF GLEE! I LOVE YOU GUYS! LISTEN, CAN YOU TONE THE SEX STUFF DOWN A BIT SO MY TEN YEAR OLD WON’T TURN THIRTY WITHIN THE HOUR? THANKS when strangers suddenly surround me in centers of mass transit and break out into song and dance.
My husband and kids did not sing for me when they picked me up at the airport a week ago but I didn’t care because I had been gone ten days and missed them so damn much that when they spotted me and I saw their faces break out into big, wide smiles, that was music enough to my ears.
But all the rest of you out there who are not married to me nor indebted to me for your innie belly buttons and stockpiles of tampons and kettle popcorn? Please take note that this is how I’d like to be greeted upon arrival from now on: