Cheers to you, too, buddy

I'm writing some stories advancing our local, happy little spring festival. I just called a man in charge of one group of events, just to get a fluffy little quote, you know, promote his events. So I call the only number given to me by the festival office. He answers, I introduce myself and say why I'm calling and ask if this would be a good time to speak with him. Some kind of unintelligible, evil-sounding grumbling, then "What is this about? Who are you with?" I'm writing some stories about the festival for the local paper and was hoping to find out a little more about your events. "How did you get this number?!?!" Uh, I called the office. I'm sorry, is this not a good time? "No, it's not a good time. I have two people in my office! This is not a good time! Call me tomorrow if you have to, then I can talk to you allllll you want." Okay, sir, thank you very much! (she says cheerfully, mentally giving him the bird)

Come on, dude, not my fault. Tell your office not to give out your cell number. Or, gasp!, if you're that freakin' busy, just don't answer your phone. Get a life.

And get this, he's in charge of community events, as in, we all love each other so much, isn't our town wonderful! A bit miscast in that role, I think.