I am a patriot, I have been working all of my life..

If you don't listen to Ani DiFranco, you'll think that title is really weird, but "Not a Pretty Girl," check that out. I used to detest her, and I loooove that song...

Anyway, in honor of the man who sang to me over the phone today, I thought I would reflect on some memorable occurrences at former jobs. Yep, I work in customer service. Today, I answered the phone, "Thank you for calling Customer Service, this is Emily," and the response was "Emily? Man, really? I keep encountering that name. See, I'm an actor and I also sing in a nightclub, and I met a little girl named Emily...but anyway, I digress. I sing this song about Emily and it goes, 'Emily ain't got married and she's 35, but she still survives...'" There were more lyrics, but those are all I can remember, and thank God, he finally stopped when I uncomfortably said "Um...nice."

Another interesting event happened when I worked at the Commercial Dispatch, for those who don't know, a mid-size daily paper in Mississippi where I was the copy editor for about 5 years. One day, we had a fax from this hate group that operates out of Kansas, I think, and basically it just said "God hates you" and went on to explain why. I was livid, not realizing that this group, from the Westboro Baptist Church, basically tours the country looking for inconsequential places to protest. So, I sent them a nasty little email to their website, "Godhatesfags.org (I am not kidding) telling them that my God didn't hate anyone and who did they think they were, etc....Only I signed my name, Emily Gaither, Copy Editor, The Commercial Dispatch. Big problem...here's why...

We received a fax the next day that was also posted to their website that said "God hates Emily and the Commercial Dispatch," and they had plans to come protest the newspaper and neighboring churches for no apparent reason. I got suspended from work for a day, the editor made a mea culpa to them that probably went like "I don't know what that crazy renegade's problem is, but she doesn't speak for the newspaper," and they didn't come..which was mildly disappointing, except if they had come, it would've been on the news, as would I have, and that's not really why I want to be known.

When I was working at TCBY, I used to eat cookie dough for dinner, since we had free reign over toppings and like a 20-minute lunch break. Also, when I decided to quit, I, erm, liquidated some toppings and quarts of yogurt to take back to the dorm. In my defense, that stupid shirt I had to wear was punishment enough.

When I worked for the alumni office at Mississippi University for Women, an 80-year old lady who had taken the wrong medication and was therefore stoned out of her gourd when she got to our office, did a Rockette kickline and when I drove her to her room on campus, she gave me $2 for carrying her luggage.

These are not all the stories, I assure you, and  maybe there will be a "Tumbled Outta Bed, Stumbled in the Kitchen" sequel to this blog, because wow, I've had a lot of jobs..

Oh, I do need to mention the Republican that SPIT on me while I was canvassing door-to-door for John Kerry in Pennsylvania. Well, she spit at me, she was old and bitter, so her spit aim was a bit off, but seriously, a grown woman SPIT at another human being for working for a different political candidate than that of her choice. That said a lot to me. What was funny about that was that the other neighbors felt so bad that she acted like an assclown, they gave me more money than they normally would. So, thank you, crazy lady, in Churchville, PA, you helped me reach my quota that day.