"WHERE'S MY MONEY, BITCH?"
That's what I said on the inside when I saw the payroll lady at the hospital today. On the outside I said "Do you have that check for me?" To which she said "What check?"
"BITCH! No you didn't!" I said on the inside, slapping her glasses off her head and then stepping on them for effect, in my mind.
On the outside I said "My invoice from the last consult?" To which she sputtered for 5 minutes about somebody else not doing their job and how 'not right' it was.
"I WANT MY DAMN MONEY, BEEYOTCH! NOW WOBBLE THAT SAGGY ASS DOWN THE HALL AND START PRINTING UP MY CHECK BEFORE I GO UPSIDE THAT HEAD." (inside)
Outside I said "People are mighty casual with someone else's money."
But don't worry, Gentle Reader, for she's "on it". She's getting it all taken care of. I'm holding my breath. They'll cough it up, but they will wait for my phone call tomorrow, in which I will say "BITCH! I WANT MY DAMN MONEY!" to whatever poor dolt happens to answer the phone. Then the lady who should have mailed it last Thursday, will actually mail it.
That's how they buy time. Now they owe me again. Woohoo! Time flies when the meter is running! I had a good day, despite the somewhat aggressive narrative above. I jes' like to bitch and carry on a little. You peeps know how I is.