I Am Not A &#%!@?! Vendor!

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I was your friend and savior when you picked up the phone during that little shit storm you were going through and asked me to save your bacon. You couldn’t thank me enough when your lemons turned into lemonade. Oh happy day! But now I’m just a “vendor” who keeps slipping out of your memory stream now that all is well. “Oh yeah, that invoice, what did I do with that?”

I remember sitting in a purchasing office at the University of Arizona years ago, while this woman was on a personal call and actually filing her nails and chewing gum. (No joke) After 15 minutes, she said “I have to go, besides I have a vendor.” I was too new at my sales position to be offended, but I remember feeling somewhat shrunken in stature and a bit insignificant.

As time went on, I realized that “vendor” can sometimes equate with parasites or annoyance, something to be tolerated. A nameless, faceless turd that’s is always sucking around for something. Funny, I was under the mistaken impression that these lowly creatures  also brought something to the table, like goods, services and valuable information. No?

Maybe “ass saving” doesn’t fall into one of your payment categories but it probably beats the shit out of the alternative, I think you might agree. While I may have morphed into something you don’t feel you have to deal with at this point, I also feel the same way about dealing with you in the future. Keep the money. Have a pizza week on me. You have a really great group of people working there. You can say it was a donation. It was.

Thanks for making me call repeatedly, e-mailing you all those times and making me feel lower than whale shit. The next time you get your cheeks caught in the wringer and you need a vendor, go to Fenway Park, the place is crawling with them.

Please note: I welcome comments that are offensive, illogical or off-topic from readers in all states of consciousness.

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