The scene: OtherJob. It is cold and rainy outside, and getting darker by the moment. I am still sick and very bored, and the book I have brought to work with me is not very good. I am playing Temple Run on my iPad.

The phone rings.

ME: “OtherJob, how may I help you?”

IDIOT JACKASS WHOSE PHONE NUMBER AND NAME I COULD TOTALLY POST BUT I’M NOT GOING TO: “Yeah, how late is your driving range open?”

I glance outside. It is still cold and raining. And we don’t have a driving range.

ME: “We don’t have a driving range, sir.”

IJWPNANICTPBINGT, suddenly sounding very irritated: “What? Is this OtherJob?”

ME: “Yessir.”

IJWPNANICTPBINGT, ignoring my affirmative answer: “Well, do you have their number, then?”

Sound of teeth grinding. No, I don’t have the number of this place you made up, and why would I give it to you if I did? Who thinks the world works like this, where I can just call one business and have them give me the number of another business?

ME: “This *is* OtherJob, sir. You’ve dialed the right number. We don’t have a driving range.”

Literal, not-shitting-you sputtering sounds from the phone. This guy cannot believe my effrontery.

IJWPNANICTPBINGT: “My friend told me you had a nighttime driving range.”

ME: “We do not.”

IJWPNANICTPBINGT,angry: “You’re serious? You’re not fucking with me right now?”

ME, suddenly much less in the mood for this idiot: “Check Google Maps or something if you don’t believe me, sir. There’s no driving range and nowhere to put one.”

IJWPNANICTPBINGT: “Well, do you know where it is?”

ME: “No, sorry. I don’t know of anywhere around here that does that.” NOTE: This is true. I might not have told him if I had known, because I don’t like people swearing at me on the phone, but I truly don’t have the vaguest idea who he might be referring to. Plus it’s COLD AND RAINING, WHAT THE FUCK.

IJWPNANICTPBINGT, working his way into a huff again: “So my friend’s just lying to me, then, huh? That’s your story?”

ME: “Sir, we close at eight. You come on over. If you can find the driving range, you can play for free.”

The line goes dead.

Exeunt.