The Grass Is Always Greener Over the Septic Tank

The Grass Is Always Greener Over the Septic Tank Read Free Page B

Book: The Grass Is Always Greener Over the Septic Tank Read Free
Author: Erma Bombeck
Tags: Humor, Essay/s, Marriage & Family, Topic, Form
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bedroom? After all, there is nothing more frightening than the insistent ring of the phone after midnight when your loved ones need you the most and you are busy breaking your leg in a dark hallway.”
    “The bedroom sounds great. Could you ...”
    “Three phones. That's smart. Now, what about a jack? After all, basking out of doors is the reason you moved to this cornfield in the first place. Just say you are standing out in the backyard talking to your neighbors. Without a phone nearby, you'll never know when some disc jockey is trying to give away $10,000. Look at it this way—a jackpot like that would pay for the jack in one phone call's time.”
    “Terrific. One jack. Now could we talk about...”
    “Color? I knew you were discerning the moment I walked in. I brought along some color chips and I think you'll find coordinated phones for every room in your house. There's God's green, barnyard brown, brothel red, and of course boring black.”
    “One barnyard, one God's, and one boring.”
    “Wise choice. Now, have you thought about which model you prefer? We have a great one that hangs from the wall for the kitchen that doesn't take up valuable counter space. Then we have the cradle type with the traditional dial, and we have the collector's gallery: the conversation-piece types in the French provincial, the Early American ones shaped like a pump, and here's a cutesie shaped like an ear trumpet.”
    “Ah . . . traditional is fine,” I said, fidgeting, “now, would you be able to tell me ...”
    “You have to live with it. Now about the listing. I know you have youngsters in the family and most of our sophisticated clientele such as yourself want their children listed so they might reap the entire benefits of a phone.”
    “That's fine,” I said.
    “Now, unless you have any questions, I think that does it,” she said, smiling and snapping her book shut.
    “Just one,” I said excitedly. “When can you install the phones?”
    She shuffled through her papers and came out with a schedule. Then, tracing down with her fingernail, she paused and said, “A year and a half.”
    “A year and a half”
    “You sound shocked,” she smiled. “Have you any idea how much money is involved in cables and poles and electronics to bring phone service all the way out to Sub-urbian Gems? Why it takes an Act of Congress just to clear the land. We can't perform miracles, can we? Excuse me,” she said, “I must dash. There's a couple moving in today down the street. What would they think if the phone company wasn't there to offer their services?”
    The Insurance Salesman
    Biff Rah said, “You look familiar. Didn't we go to school together?”
    It was a funny thing for a man to say over the telephone.
    But that's the way neighborhood insurance men in the suburbs were. They clutched at any straw to establish some common basis for your trust and your signature on an endowment. “Listen,” he said, “I know you are busy getting settled. Don't I know it? I'm ten years—and I'm still unpacking, right?”
    “The children are a little ...”
    “Hey, kids. Do I know kids?” he said. “Got five of them myself so I understand your problem. All I want to do is to come over and review whot you've got in the way of protection, and leave, okay?”
    We agreed.
    Biff grabbed my hand at the door, pumped it and said, “You look f'amiliar. Didn't we go to school together?”
    “Not unless you wore a plaid jumper and knee socks. It was an all Girls' school.”
    “I was the one with the knobby knees who never shaved!” he grinned, punching me in the arm and knocking me into the bookcases. “But seriously folks,” he said, whipping open his briefcase. “I didn't come here to make jokes. I simply dropped by to spell out a few facts of life. You've just moved into a new house, your kids are in their jammies watching TV, you're employed (nodding to my husband), you've got a car, and you (nodding at me) stay home and bake bread. You

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