CALL ME SNAKE

I like to think that the relationship between a man and his drain cleaner is about as close as it gets. I’ve been seeing the same guy from Rooter Man for many years owing to a longstanding problem involving tree roots and our drain (“main line,” as it’s called). I’ve always thought that we got along well. That is until I got a message from him today on my voicemail saying: “Hello Steve… F_ _ _ you, a _ _ hole!” He later explained to me the usual line: It’s not me, it’s you. Or something like that. Actually he was having trouble parking his van because of street cleaning and some joker was giving him a hard time. The real explanation then was: “It’s not you, it’s him.”