You know that scene in Dead Poet’s Society where Neil’s father runs to his son’s window after having heard the gunshot screaming, “Neiiiiiiillllllllllll!!!!!!” and you get the super cheesy super so-mo horror shot?
Okay, so here is today’s:
I’ve just gotten off the phone talking to a friend while in the background her four kids screamed at the top of their lungs the whole time. They are just being kids, playing chase, and so on – they aren’t misbehaving at all. I just happen to be abnormally sensitive to certain pitches, and they make me agitated and nervous. So, no one’s fault, but I get off the phone and my nerves are a puddle around my feet and I’m about to throw a silver plated bookend across the room.
Phone rings again.
Pause. Click. The telltale hiss of the telemarketer’s quality assurance recording devices turning on.
I say again, “Hello?”
“Hello, is Mr. Christensen available this evening?”
“Are you from the Healthcare survey group who called yesterday and hung up on me?”
“Um, no, ma’am. I’m from the Children’s Leukemia Society. I’m so sorry about that caller yesterday.”
“Okay, what can I do for you?”
“Like I said, ma’am, I’m so sorry about that man yesterday. That wasn’t me, that’s for sure. I know what it’s like to have hundreds of callers call you at home and interrupt…”
He continues talking for at least another 45 seconds. I wonder to myself if I’m needed for this conversation.
“So, I’m so sorry to hear that Mr. Christensen isn’t available. I’m sure that he’s the only person in the house with the ability to make financial decisions about where you donate to and which charities you support –”
He keeps talking. I’m thinking, “No…. You did NOT — ”
“Excuse me, sir. Sir, excuse me. Yes, my husband is out of town right now. However, I am equally capable of making any and all of our financial decisions and so I can speak for us both when I say that there is no need for you to call back when he returns.”
“Oh, you can? Really? Oh, well, it’s for the kids –”
“Yes, really, I can. And we won’t. Thank you. Good evening, sir, and good luck.”
You guys know me. I can’t make this up.