Since Susan Ellen is partly deaf and doesn’t like to wear a hearing aid because she thinks it messes up her inner harmony, the volume on her phone made it seem like there was an intercom in her house.
“What the fuck, Susan Ellen? What did you do?” shouted Daisy Ellen.
“I just proofread your proposal,” answered Susan Ellen.
“You changed everything! All the words I wrote are different!”
Susan Ellen looked at me desperately. “What should I say?” she mouthed.
“Say that you gave it to your assistant and that I fixed some major grammatical mistakes.”
Susan Ellen hushed me.
“Daisy, there’s someone at the door. Can you hold on one second?”
Susan Ellen put Daisy Ellen on hold – which I’m surprised she was able to do – and looked at me.
“Daisy Ellen doesn’t know I have an assistant. If she found out that I hired someone to help me out, she’ll get really mad.”
“Why?”
“She’s just like that. She’s a bitch. But, she’s my best friend and I love her. But … ugh… I hate her. So, you have to help me. She bullies me so much and I never know what to say. Tell me what to say.”
“How- when- wait, what?”
Before I was able to comprehend what Susan Ellen told me, she took Daisy Ellen off hold.
“I don’t know why you would change everything. I just asked you to proofread it!”
“There were grammar mistakes.”
Susan Ellen mouth to me, “Right?”
I nodded.
“But that’s what grammar check on the computer is for!”
Susan Ellen grabbed a piece of notebook paper and frantically scribbled, “What should I say?”
I took a pen and wrote, “Grammar check is not a good tool.”
Susan Ellen said that into the phone.
“Are you saying, Susan Ellen, that you’re smarter than the grammar check that is on a computer? You’re smarter than a computer? Is that what you are telling me?”
I’m sure the first thing Cormac McCarthy did when finished the first draft of The Road was click "spell/grammar check" and then sent it to the publishers.
I wrote down on the paper “Grammar check is not able to catch every mistake.”
Susan Ellen said that into the phone.
“Well, Susan, I’m dating a guy who is really good with computers who can fix that.”
Susan Ellen looked at me, begging me to write down a good comeback. I wrote, “I was only trying to help!”
Susan Ellen said it into the phone.
“Well, you made it so much worse! You totally messed everything up!”
“I don’t understand why you’re being so mean to me, Daisy. I was just fixing it.”
“Well, you didn’t fix it. It’s ridiculous. I don’t understand why you would think you’re smarter than a computer!”
Susan Ellen was looking at me, asking for another comeback.
I had a notebook in front me, jotting down comebacks. They consisted of:
“Daisy Ellen is a cunt.”
“This is hilarious.”
“I want to quit this job.”
“Our product is a scam anyway.”
I mouthed to Susan Ellen, “I don’t have anything.” Susan Ellen mouthed, “Okay.”
Susan Ellen continued her conversation with Daisy Ellen. “So, how are you?” she asked.
Daisy Ellen responded, “Oh I’m great! I made this pomegranate liver tonic today. It was great.”
“Oh, tell me more, girlfriend!” said Susan Ellen.
She curled up on her couch and they gabbed like little girls as if their friendship wasn’t more volatile than a husband who beats his wife.
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