John blanched when he saw the bill. Let me tell you that I'd still be laughing at the vision of a middle-aged guy dropping his jaw just like in the cartoons if I hadn't been suffering from apoplexy myself.
Finally, he regained his color, and of course it shot into scarlet immediately. He grumbled, "CHRISTINA! BRING ME YOUR PHONE!"
Naturally, she came running, sporting a glazed deer in the headlights look.
"HOW DID YOU MANAGE TO MAKE 1,318 TEXT MESSAGES IN ONE MONTH!"
Sorry about the caps, gentle reader; unfortunately everything that John said was in this Incredible Hulk voice. It was almost like being in a scene from the Mask. The veins were pulsing, his jaw was square, Christy was getting smaller and smaller.
Where was I? Cowering behind my monitor--I had text messaged a few times, too.
I kept waiting for him to crush the phone in his giant cucumber fingers. Instead, he excused her, and called the phone company.
Let me tell you that it was the first time I ever saw him deal with customer service in a civil tone. Maybe this company really does have its act together, or he realized that snorting like a crazed bull wasn't going to work in his favor. Maybe a little of both? The good news is that my darling husband is finally mellowing, like a fine wine.
He went through the entire bill itemization without once losing his cool. Amazing.
And here's the good news. They had a record of the offer for free text messaging. It was never applied, so a little magic behind the scenes and the agent adjusted the bill. Phew!