Gerald was at the remote lot this morning. He was eating an egg sandwich and drinking a coffee when I got there. It was set up on the trunk of a car like it was his own little table.

He left his trash there when the van picked us up.

The Angry Haitian was driving again, and Gerald sat shotgun. Gerald told him there was another route that could get him to the office much quicker and then told him to slow down when they were coming up on this parking lot he saw a cop parked at yesterday.

At one point, the Angry Haitian nearly cracked into someone while he was making a left turn. The other driver stopped and flipped him off.

Then Gerald told him this street was could be really dangerous, which is another reason why he takes the other route. The Angry Haitian turned up the radio after that.

Today we ordered lunch from a place Fitzy calls "Ass on a Bun". The company doesn't want us off the phones all at once, so they buy us lunch and have us eat it at our desks in between calls.

I ordered a buffalo chicken sub.

The delivery was late and there were only three managers available to hand out lunch to about sixty reps, so my sub waas cold by the time I got it. I was starving at that point, so I didn't care all that much.

Whenever I'd try to take a break, I'd get a call from the Watchtower asking me to get back on the phones. I guess calls always spike around lunch on account of everyone slacking.

The first call I took was from someone looking for their account balance. It was a simple enough request, but I put him on hold so I could take a few bites out of my sandwich and look like I was on a call. I did it a second time with a guy who needed to change his address, and the mic from my headset got stuck in the sandwich.

When I pulled in out, it was all gunked up with bleu cheese. I tried to wipe it off, but a big chunk of it was lodged in the hole the sound goes into.

I call that part "the sound-hole".

When I got back on the phone, the guy couldn't hear a word I said. He knew I had picked up because the hold music stopped playing, and kept saying, "Hello? Hello?"

I ended up having to hang up on him and clean out the sound-hole with a thumb tack. The Watchtower kept calling, so I stood up and waved my headset at them so they could see something was wrong.

They sent a manager named Peter over to see what was going on. I told them some stuff from my sandwich got stuck in the hole in my headset.

He asked if I meant the sound-hole. I said I did.

He asked if I had the buffalo chicken sub. I guess this happens a lot.