Phone rings. I pick it up. Person, perky, male, asks for me, murdering my last name in such a fashion that I know it's Qwest. (My phone company is Qwest, and they have my last name misspelled in their records.) Guy runs through his little schpiel about the phone that goes perfectly with their services -- "Having the services and not this phone is like having cereal without milk!" -- and I let him get through with it -- I know how I hate being interrupted when I'm in a groove -- and then I make a few points plain to him.
"Actually, I like my cereal without milk. Secondly, we're broke-ass college students. Thirdly, it's Ms. B------, not Mrs. And since you seem to have my name and information right up there in your database, could you perhaps correct the spelling of my last name with your company? You've been spelling it wrong since day 1."
Guy laughed. He'd apparently never heard that response to his cereal/milk thing before. He couldn't correct my name, so I thanked him for his time and hung up on him.
Gotta love telemarketers.