Writings
More Hatred for the Phone » Mon, Jul 4th 2005 5:48 pm
So the phone rang itself silent while I was listening to some tunes. Then, a few seconds later it rang again, so against my better judgement I picked it up:
- “Hello.”
- As unenthusiastically as possible.
- “Hello. Is Shelley there?”
- (Shelley’s my mom.)
- “Umm. Hang on.”
- (I say this when I know she’s home or when I don’t know at all; I have to ask her if she’s home or not, of course.)
- *pause*
- “Hmm. I think she’s gone out.”
- She had. I couldn’t find her.
- “Well can you just leave her a message then?”
- Damn it! Should’ve let it rang itself silent and let the answering machine do the work.
- “Sure. Go ahead.”
- Never again…
- “Just tell her to call Heather.”
- “Sure.”
- Another phone conversation over. Or so I thought.
- “Wait, actually can you just tell her that Harold Sween has passed away?”
- I’m sorry, what? You want me to write—-on a 3x3-inch piece of paper—-“Mom: Heather called. Harold Sween has passed away”? Please lady, I’m begging you, just have her call you back!
- “Oh, sure. No problem.”
- Despite the lady’s apparent lack of remorse, I delivered my line as though I’d known Harold well.
- “Thanks. *click*”
Ok then. It’s settled. Never again will I answer the telephone unless I know for sure it’s going to be for me. Why this lady felt the need to burden me with the task of informing my mother of Harold’s death, I’ll never know. I mean she’s used to getting such news (working with the elderly will numb you to such things, I’m sure) I’m not used to giving it, and frankly I don’t want the practice.
I dedicate this post to Harold. I did not know you, but I’ll probably never forget you.
1 josh on Tue, Jul 5th 2005 2:20 pm
Amusing how you fear the everyday.
2 Aaron on Tue, Jul 5th 2005 2:23 pm
I don’t fear it. I simply despise the telephone. It has its place of course. I just think people abuse it.