Silence is golden - my larynx is made of tupperware

Yesterday as I was sitting around waiting for some people to return my phone calls, I began a noisy lament:

"Jesus Christ," I said. "Why won't these people call me back? I'm trying to make these stupid commercials. It's like I'm prostituting myself. I'm standing on the corner freezing my ass off, and nobody's pulling up and rolling down their window. You know?"

I was just thinking how I'd really made good use of that metaphor when the Biggest Boss of All Bosses - a sweetly puritanical man - pokes his head out from behind the filing cabinet and says, "Who's on the corner?"

Timing like mine is a gift. Like scabies.