crankyAll this being said, there's a reason I don't usually take phone calls in my house.
The Agent called to discuss my upcoming trip to New York, during which we're going to be doing several dinner-type things, some meeting-type things, and a lot of hanging out. During our forty-minute or so discussion, she was treated to...
"Ow! Ow ow OW! Goddammit, Alice, get your claws out of my fucking leg!"
"No. No, you can't have that. No, that isn't yours. No."
"Get off of there! Jesus, cat, I swear, I will skin you."
"I can get new cats, you know. Better cats. Smaller cats. Cats that don't do that."
"Alice, give back my bra."
"I'm serious, Alice. Give me back my damn bra."
"THAT'S MY FUCKING BRA, CAT!"
"Okay, I give up. Just do whatever the fuck you want."
...all while we were having a serious business discussion. I swear, the fact that she hasn't drowned me and put me out of her misery is something of a miracle.
November 5 2009, 08:47:00 UTC 7 years ago
Anyone who phones someone at home on business (unless it is during business hours and the person is officially working from home in their own locked study) can expect that sort of thing. Cats, children, spouses (spice?), parents, neighbours, things on the stove, other random distractions (the thing I'm trying to extract from a pile causing the rest of the pile to collapse). I suspect she's used to it with writers.
(I would like to meet your agent, though, she sounds wonderful...)
November 6 2009, 18:38:36 UTC 7 years ago