Each time I find an asshole like you, I consider it material for my art.
Get yourself a patient phone manner, or is that too much of a new start?
The line went off, on and off, just as you recited a number.
I asked you to repeat, saying “Sorry” all the time.
I gave you permission to sharpen your voice.
My manner dictated how yours would become,
just as yours can dictate mine.
If I had been more confident, less apologetic,
should I have been grateful, to have a pig like you eat from my hand?
No one else except yourself, do you understand.
You are so important, and your stress gave you permission to be rude.
Go and get screwed.
