Reposted:

When I first decided to get a cell phone, it was 1996 after we moved back from Germany.  Being ever so efficient (perfect), I shopped around at different stores.  When I stopped at Sprint, I asked the salesman if there was good reception out where I lived.  He asked me where I lived.  When I told him the town, which was pretty much out with the farmers and my one 14-house subdivision, he said to me, “Oh I’m sorry ma’am, we don’t build cell towers for cows.”

And I was supposed to put commission in this guy’s pocket?  I was livid.  When I came home and told Marty, he said, “you should have lifted your shirt, showed him your udders, and left.”