I am SUCH a bitch and I love it!

So I got the call this morning that the table was here. I ran down like a little kid at 11 am to meet the owner of the company who himself is doing the delivery. He's an old country Italian dude who says, "how would you like to pay for this"? I got red in the face and got worked up because the movers hadn't paid the balance. Those fuckers. The Italian was ready to leave. He has no time for this, he has a 4 million dollar business and no time for me. I sat in his trunk and thought quickly. I told him that there is no way that he is leaving with my table. I phoned my uncle Harvey who recommended those movers and I was phoned back within minutes with the owner's home phone number. He was PISSED! He called me "a piece of work" and said that in my life I life to play the victim. He couldn't be further from the truth and I commended him on personally attacking me, very mature! I told him that his hokey company fucked this up and he will pay and he will pay today. He also claimed that he had no method of payment at home. I told him that I find it hard to believe that he doesn't carry his company card with him and within minutes, the balance was paid. He's a fuckin' shmuck!
The Italian and I walked up stairs and cursed the mover the entire way down the hall. I thanked Nik for being so understanding. I also persuaded him to open the jar. He used a spoon and pried the lid away from the jar. He was devastated that I already had the hammer out. We hugged and embraced. Onto the cooking!