Coffee Table Declarations
Wednesday, May 12, 2004
I wish I was a more technical person who knew how to add sections and fun things to this, my own little corner of the web. If I did, then I would add a section just for stories about the weird calls I get here at work. Instead I'll just keep posting them and you can either say "Oh goody! Another weird caller story!" or "Oh boy, not another weird caller story, will she stop writing about those already?!"
The phone rang. I answered, "Good morning, (name of company inserted here)" and the caller, a soft spoken man with a southern accent said, "hi, I have a question." I hesitantly replied, "um, o.k." wanting to sound noncommittal because you never know what the question may be and if I even know the answer.
He then explained that he had Windows 98 and he was trying to install it but he "did a stupid thing". He left the disc out on the floor and his wife didn't see it so she stepped on it by accident. At this point of his diatribe, I had to break in, "um, are you sure you're looking for (name of company inserted here)? Because we don't deal with hardware, we are a (company business inserted here and sorry for all the secrecy but you know how it is when you update your blog from work - big brother and all that) company." He insisted that yes, he had reached the right company and that he wanted to get a new disc even though he had the (something or other bunch of letters and numbers inserted here and not for secrecy, but because I had no idea what he was talking about.) I said, "I have no idea what you're talking about. We don't do anything like that here." and he apologized for bothering me and then hung up.
I'm not an oracle folks, I cannot solve all of life's problems and answer all existential questions. (Although wouldn't it be neat if I could? People could call me and say "what should I have for dinner tonight?" and I would pause and then say authoritatively, "spaghetti and meatballs." or they would ask, "what should I do about my deep seated fear of intimacy and contrasting need for companionship?" and I would say, "go shopping, you'll feel better.") What was he looking for from me, really? Confirmation that he's not stupid for leaving a disc on the floor? Reassurance that his wife should have watched her step? Validation for all of his inadequacies? I don't know but he definately had the wrong number.
The phone rang. I answered, "Good morning, (name of company inserted here)" and the caller, a soft spoken man with a southern accent said, "hi, I have a question." I hesitantly replied, "um, o.k." wanting to sound noncommittal because you never know what the question may be and if I even know the answer.
He then explained that he had Windows 98 and he was trying to install it but he "did a stupid thing". He left the disc out on the floor and his wife didn't see it so she stepped on it by accident. At this point of his diatribe, I had to break in, "um, are you sure you're looking for (name of company inserted here)? Because we don't deal with hardware, we are a (company business inserted here and sorry for all the secrecy but you know how it is when you update your blog from work - big brother and all that) company." He insisted that yes, he had reached the right company and that he wanted to get a new disc even though he had the (something or other bunch of letters and numbers inserted here and not for secrecy, but because I had no idea what he was talking about.) I said, "I have no idea what you're talking about. We don't do anything like that here." and he apologized for bothering me and then hung up.
I'm not an oracle folks, I cannot solve all of life's problems and answer all existential questions. (Although wouldn't it be neat if I could? People could call me and say "what should I have for dinner tonight?" and I would pause and then say authoritatively, "spaghetti and meatballs." or they would ask, "what should I do about my deep seated fear of intimacy and contrasting need for companionship?" and I would say, "go shopping, you'll feel better.") What was he looking for from me, really? Confirmation that he's not stupid for leaving a disc on the floor? Reassurance that his wife should have watched her step? Validation for all of his inadequacies? I don't know but he definately had the wrong number.
