So, a reprieve to the day. About fifteen minutes in all, where the entire office just hydrogen-exploded with laughter, after snorfling giggles as quietly as possible through a series of phone calls with a new customer.
…We will call her “Helen.”
“Helen” is one of 21 new contract-customers whom I called for bookings today. One of the 14 I Ieft voicemails for, with the usual schpiel of info about requirements and ya-de-ya-duh…and one of the 9 who have since called me back.
…But apparently “Helen” didn’t know why she was calling, or whom, or for what, or really much of anything.
To be fair, “Helen” is of the elder generation…possibly beyond the generation you would think of as the eldest, now living on the planet. If she was 110, I wouldn’t be surprised. If she was on the Mayflower, I wouldn’t be surprised, either.
…And though I haven’t the slightest idea how a person with severe mobility issues, and self-proclaimed near blind and deafness could or would, go out alone into the world and purchase one of our products, she did. Then promptly forgot all about it. Until she remembered it again. Then forgot again. Necessitating several conversations tag-teamed by the WHS Pimp and myself, ending in tears of total gut-wrenching laughter.
…We did try to be professionals about it. And we managed, on the phone. Sort of. But that is all.
Here is an approximate run down of the scene:
WHS Pimp: (On phone) [Blah-blah,] this is [who-de-ha]…and how can I help you?
“Helen”: (On phone, screaming so loud that I can hear every word even from my office.) WHAT?! WHAT?
WHS Pimp: Hello, this is [blah-blah], how can I help you?
“Helen”: I CAN’T HEAR! YOU HAVE TO SPEAK UP!
WHS Pimp: HELLO! THIS IS [BLAH-BLAH]! HOW CAN I HELP YOU?
“Helen”: I SAID, “I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” YOU HAVE TO TALK LOUDER. AND SLOW DOWN!
WHS Pimp: OK. CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?
“Helen”: WHO IS THIS? WHAT DO YOU WANT?!
WHS Pimp: MA’AM, YOU CALLED *US.* IS THERE SOMETHING I CAN HELP YOU WITH?
“Helen” : WHY DID YOU CALL ME?
WHS Pimp: AH! YOU MEAN WE LEFT A VOICE MAIL? HAVE YOU BOUGHT A [BLAH-BLAH] LATELY BY ANY CHANCE?
“Helen”: WHAT?! WHAT?!
WHS Pimp: A [BLAH-BLAH.] HAVE YOU BOUGHT ONE. LATELY?
“Helen”: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!
WHS PIMP: I THINK YOU PURCHASED A [BLAH-BLAH] RECENTLY, AND WE HAVE CALLED YOU TO SET UP A BUILD DATE.
“Helen”: WHAT? WHEN?
WHS Pimp: ONE MOMENT AND I’LL PUT YOU ON WITH THE OFFICE MANAGER AND SHE CAN HELP YOU. ALRIGHT?
“Helen”: WHAT???!!
WHS Pimp: ONE MOMENT, PLEASE.
(WHS Pimp puts phone on hold.)
WHS Pimp: Uh. Yeah. We have a screamer. She doesn’t hear well, and seems really confused. You’ll have to talk slow. And loud.
Me: Yeah.
Me: (On phone) HELLO, THIS IS [BLAH-BLAH] HOW CAN I HELP YOU?
“Helen:” WHAT?!? WHAT?!?
Me: I THINK YOU NEED HELP BOOKING AN INSTALL, IS THAT CORRECT?
“Helen”: I DON’T KNOW. I WAS TALKING TO SOMEONE AND HE JUST WENT AWAY. WHAT IS THIS?
Me: WE SELL [BLAH-BLAHS.] I THINK YOU BOUGHT ONE. WE JUST CALLED TO–
“Helen”: (Apparently to herself. Or her invisible friend.) –WELL, I JUST DON’T KNOW, I CAN’T HEAR THEM! WHY DON’T THEY SPEAK UP? WHAT DO THEY WANT FROM ME? WHAT?!
Me: …I’M SORRY, I…CAN YOU HEAR ME?
(WHS Pimp begins to giggle.)
“Helen”: …I JUST DON’T KNOW. THEY WON’T TELL ME…
Me: …MA’AM. IS THERE SOMEONE THERE I CAN SPEAK WITH WHO–
“Helen”: –WHAT?! ARE YOU TALKING TO ME?!
Me: MA’AM, HAVE YOU PURCHASED A [BLAH-BLAH?] WE ARE THE PEOPLE WHO BUILD THEM. DO YOU HAVE QUESTIONS ABOUT THE INSTALL DATE?
“Helen”: SPEAK! UP! I CAN’T HEAR YOU!
Me: (Veins popping out on neck.) OK. CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?
“Helen”: WELL IT’S ABOUT TIME! NOW. WHAT DO YOU WANT?
(WHS Pimp giggles harder. We begin the process of confirmation and build dates. It is a longer process for having to scream and re-scream every sentence of it. Finally:)
Me: …SO YOU HAVE THAT ALL DOWN, THEN? ALL THE REQUIREMENTS? AND DATE?
“Helen”: WHAT?
Me: YOU HAVE THE DATE?
“Helen”: THE DATE? IT’S WEDNESDAY. JUNE SOMETHING…
Me: YES. I MEAN THE DATE OF THE “INSTALL.”
“Helen”: THE WHAT?
Me: YOUR INSTALL.
“Helen”: 14TH.
Me: NO, THAT’S THE 10TH. WEDNESDAY THE 10TH.
“Helen”: WHEN?
Me: WEDNESDAY. THE 10TH.
“Helen”: TODAY?
Me: NO, YOUR BUILD DATE.
“Helen”: 14, JULY.
Me: NO, THE 10TH OF JULY…WEDNESDAY.
“Helen”: WEDNESDAY. THAT’S *NOT* THE 14TH!
Me: 10th. 10th. WEDNESDAY THE 10TH.
“Helen”: THAT’S WHAT I SAID!
Me: OK. WEDNESDAY THE 10TH.
“Helen”: …AND WHAT WAS THAT ONE THING CALLED AGAIN?
Me: THE BLOCKS? OR THE DRIP EDGE?
“Helen:” YES.
Me: BLOCKS OR DRIP EDGE?
“Helen”: YES! ARE YOU HAVING PROBLEMS HEARING TOO? DO YOU NEED ME TO SPEAK UP?
(WHS Pimp snickers louder.)
Me: NO, THANK YOU. NO. I’M JUST TRYING TO FIND OUT IF YOU MEAN THE BLOCKS OR DRIP EDGE?
“Helen”: YES.
(WHS Pimp snorkles.)
Me: WELL…THE BLOCKS ARE JUST…”BLOCKS”…FOR UNDER THE BUILDING. THE DRIP EDGE IS FOR THE ROOFING…HELPS GUIDE WATER AWAY FROM THE–
“Helen”: –SHIP EDGE?!
Me: NO, “DRIP.” “DRIP” EDGE.
“Helen”: SHIP?! SHIP?! THAT CAN’T BE RIGHT. WHAT DOES IT HAVE TO DO WITH A SHIP?
(Whs Pimp starts getting tummy giggles.)
Me: NO, “DRIP.” “DRIP” EDGE. “D” AS IN “DOG.”
“Helen”: WHAT?!
Me: “DOG!” “DOG!”
“Helen”: WHAT?! DOG?!?
Me: “D” AS IN “DOG”…”DUH-RIP EDGE.
“Helen”: WELL I DON’T KNOW. BUT YOU’RE COMING ON THE 14TH, SO I GUESS I’LL SEE WHAT THIS IS ALL ABOUT, THEN.
Me: THE 10TH. WE ARE COMING ON THE 10TH. WEDNESDAY.
“Helen”: WELL, I WROTE IT DOWN *SOMEWHERE.* ONLY I CAN’T SEE. MY GLASSES ARE…WELL…I DON’T KNOW WHERE THEY ARE. BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE THEM, YOU SEE.
Me: AH. YES. THAT MAKES IT ROUGH.
“Helen”: WHAT?!
Me: THAT’S ROUGH!
“Helen:” SO. YOU ARE COMING TO MY HOUSE.
Me: WEDNESDAY THE 10TH.
“Helen:” : …TO DO WHAT, NOW?
Me: TO BUILD THE [BLAH-BLAH] YOU BOUGHT. FROM [YA-DE-YA-DUH.]
“Helen:” OK, DEAR. WHATEVER THAT MEANS.
(She promptly hangs up. WHS pimp busts a gut. I glare at him.)
Me: Thanks for that.
(About thirty seconds later, the phone rings.)
WHS Pimp: [Blah-blah] this is [Who-de-ha], how can I help you?
“Helen:” WHAT?! WHAT?! WHO IS THIS? WHO ARE YOU? SOMEONE CALLED ME FROM HERE.
Me: (With a grin.) Ahhh…sweet, sweet karma. The instant fast-food gratification kind….
WHS Pimp: YES, MA’AM. I REMEMBER YOU. “HELEN”, RIGHT…?
“Helen”: HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?! WHO ARE YOU?! WHAT DO YOU WANT?!
(A near carbon copy of the identical conversation I just had, takes place. The longer it goes, the harder I giggle…eventually necessitating a bathroom visit so as to not literally mess myself with laughter. By the time I return, we are at:)
WHS Pimp: …LEVEL. NO, “LEVEL.” THE GROUND. “EVEN.” “EVEN.” SO IT’S…”EVEN.”
“Helen”: WITH WHAT?
WHS Pimp: WITH…THE “GROUND.” SO WE CAN BUILD. WE CAN BUILD ON ANYTHING AS LONG AS IT’S LEVEL. DIRT, GRAVEL…
“Helen”: –WHAT?!
(I immediately start snickering again.)
WHS Pimp: DIRT. OR GRAVEL…LIKE PEA GRAVEL…?
“Helen”: T-GAVEL? WHAT?!
WHS Pimp: NO, “PEA.” “PEA!” PEA GRA–
“Helen:” —I CAN’T HEAR YOU? WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? SHIP EDGE AND T-GAVEL???
(I laugh harder. WHS Pimp with quivering voice tries *not* to.)
“Helen”: …NEWFANGLE WAYS. I DON’T KNOW…
WHS Pimp: “PEA!” “PEA!” AS IN…”PEAS IN A POD!” PEA! GRAVEL! GA-RAAAAA-VEL!!!!!
(I am crying and holding onto the desk, open-mouth drooling on it, freely. No sound at this point is even coming out. I am sincerely glad I have already peed. “Peed.” “P”…as in “Piss myself silly”…)
“Helen”: P-GAVEL?!?
WHS Pimp: NO. “PEA.” “GRRRRRAVEL.”
“Helen”: …WELL I DON’T KNOW. IF YOU WANT TO.
(I whoop a belly laugh. WHS Pimp smiles and shakes his head.)
“Helen”:…I GUESS I’LL SEE WHEN YOU GET HERE ON THE 14TH.
WHS Pimp & Me: THE 10TH!
“Helen”: …WELL, I KNOW I WROTE IT DOWN. SOMEWHERE…
WHS Pimp: THANK YOU!
(He hangs up. We totally bust a gut, crying all over ourselves.)
WHS Pimp: I bet she calls every day until the day we build it, wondering who the fuck we are and what we want from her.
Me: No takers. Too easy.
(Long pause as we calm to silence. Staring into the depressing abyss, after the one bright spot of our day.)
Me: You know? I’ll prob’ly end up just exactly like that. And this is just karma having a good premonition fuck with me right now.
WHS Pimp: …Yep.
The End.
~D