It had been enough that I maintained my dignity, a resource I've been neglecting for too long as life continues to kick my ass. But there was gravy: the evil heifer called me right back almost immediately! Nonplussed and confused, she was as halting and unsure as she'd, moments ago, been so full of herself.

"Ms. Dickerson? This is...the Evil Heifer who so cruelly dismissed you scant moments ago even though I know only the desperate call me, expecting me to do the job from which I so faithfully cash the paychecks."  Or words to that effect.

"Hello," I said, only mildly surprised.  Until this cell, too, is disconnected for non-payment, I do have Caller ID. Then, I just said nothing. Her dime. She wanted me to make this easy for -- I knew she'd realized what a bitch she'd been. But I didn't care one way or the how about how she felt, only about how I'd behaved. My mama wouldda been proud. Thank god I hadn't let that bitch make me cry.

Finally, in the silence, she started fumbling, asking me if I'd understood her instructions. It was the best she could do, surprised as she'd been by my abrupt, but polite, ring-off. I'm guessing she'd come to enjoy telling off would-be applicants who displeased her, which was probably 90% of us.  Denying them help even more.

But of course I'd understood. I speak English and have a three digit IQ.  Here's what I understand:  Power's gone to your head, you "serve" a powerless constituency, and you think we poor deserve to be so, except for the chosen few who kiss your ass just so. I'm destitute, not stupid. 

"Yes," I said briskly. "Absolutely. You were very clear with that list of Someone Else's to Calls, the Anyone's But You's and to Tell My Story Walking." Or words to that effect.

"Oh. Well. OK. Because I just wanted to make sure...."

I let  her fumble on. I wasn't trying to be mean. I was just trying to hold onto myself, to figure out my next move, to just stride past the latest obstacle. I was done with her. She could deal with her guilt on her own time. 

Still. It was a nice, unexpected bennie that my refusal to stoop to her level managed to make her feel bad, a tad less enamored of her own wonderfulness.

Our mamas always turn out to be right, don't they? I'm going to call mine right now and thank her. Before this cell, too, is disconnected.