Checking the Rearview Mirror Back to Mayhem 2009.

traffic in the rearview mirrorImage by grendelkhan via Flickr

Back in May 2009, my Uncle Sam on my mother’s side, helped support me after Frank the baker cut off my dough and tossed me out the back door with the used doilies.

Although I am eternally grateful to my Uncle Sam for his financial help while we tube fed our bank account, he could do more to help the unemployed by euthanizing the voice mail system that causes brain decay and replacing it with one that doesn’t blight minds.

The funding could come from corporations with fat assets that profit from not paying taxes and hiring cheaper workers overseas.


Try not to throw up until after pressing every voice mail option and screaming obscenities at the cyborg operator at the other end of the line.


I’m convinced that my Uncle Sam’s phone system was designed for the criminally insane or flat-lined deadbeats clinging to life support. Warning: batteries not included.

My brain almost melted after spending close to an hour on the phone with the New York State Unemployment office trying to speak with a live-bearing mammal or something with human DNA.

Instead, I listened to a monotonous voice prompt that made my head explode like a rear-ended Ford Pinto.

The voice mail options were something like . . .

•    If you’d like to continue in English, press 1 and click your heels three times.

•    If you’d like to continue in Mandarin Pig Latin, press 2.

•    If you’d like to file for unemployment benefits in this lifetime, press 3.

•    If you’d like to return to the previous nonexistent menu, press 4.

•    If you’d like to hear a list of frequently asked questions about lunch, press 5.

I chose option 6 and tossed my phone down the garbage disposal.

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