Last Minute Request

So, a few days ago, it was my birthday.  In case you haven't read, like, the last three or four blog posts about this subject (what can I say?  I enjoy my birthday, and always have - it's a great way to fuel my narcissism).  Anyways, due to the fact that I'm all "grown up" now, I didn't take the day off work, and so worked a gruelling day.  Sweat dripped off my brow, as it was one of those days where I had to deal with every idiot under the sun.  And every idiot under the son's retarded cousin, Jeffy. 

At about 4:20 (I get off at 4:30), I'm happily looking forward to drinks at my place at seven, bar at eight, and then crazy random adventures.  Of course, it's at this precise moment that I get a phone call from Cashline.

Y'know, the ATM Company.  The company that I used to work for, and quit about six weeks ago.  My last day was July 1st, in fact.  I hadn't heard a word from them since, although the deal was that if they needed me to fill in a shift, I'd do what I could.  In fact, I still have all the keys to the site, and all the passwords written down.  I occasionally debate breaking in and robbing the place, but then remember that the only thing of value in that office is the box of chai tea I mistakenly left behind. 

So, I pick up, and sure enough, it was my old boss, wanting me to do him a favour.

"Can you work tomorrow and sunday morning?"  Not even much of a "hello" or a "how are you?". 

"Wha?" I cleverly say.

"I need you at the office tomorrow at seven, and sunday too."

"Um.  It's my birthday today.  I have no idea what's going to happen tomorrow, but I imagine I'll be hungover and tired."

"It's your birthday today."  He says it disbelievingly, as if I'm giving him an excuse.

"Yup.  I've been having my birthday on this day every year, since the day I was born," I have to admit, I feel pretty clever, having said that. 

"Well, fine.  Bye." and with that, he hung up. 

I have no idea why he was angry - how do you call a former employee less than twenty four hours before you need them to fill a shift and then get angry when they've made other plans? 

Oh, yeah.  Squee and I came really close to calling the place that night, angrily telling whoever was stuck working that the machine ate our card. 

The only reason we didn't was because, well, we forgot.