Call from Withheld.
A lovely Indian chap named James called today and wanted to spread the love about writing off credit card charges.
This is a subject dear to Mr Smiths wallet so he took the call. Whilst on the toilet.
It wasn't a pleasant conversation for either of us. Mr Smith had some kind of impacted fecal plug and James was asked to find a painkiller and toilet paper delivery service locally but failed.
Telling a complete stranger, whose first language isn't English, how to spell ibuprofen through gritted teeth is most difficult.
Several minutes of straining later, Mr Smith felt a twinge in his chest and fainted, dropping the phone.
James hung up.
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