So. Week one is over. I find it quite uncanny how the month of February is so perfectly aligned, with the 1st falling on a Monday and the 28th falling on a Sunday. There are exactly four weeks in total. Such symmetry in a year is quite hard to find.
And nooooo, I’m not going to wax lyrical about February, or talk about how obviously special it is to me. Go figure.
Strangely enough, my last few calls of the week ended up being my highlights. Not for the over-friendliness, the chattiness, the relaxed casualness and the “la”s and the “lor”s and the LOLs — but for the himbotic side that reveals itself once in a while, or maybe all the time, depending if you’re me or you’re you, or more specifically, Jason from work with the torn knee ligament and the proud arm strength and the obvious wish to die from my repeated stomach jabs.
Anyway, I shall amuse you with two convos.
*
1. “Nick.”
DARYL: (picking up the call) Hello, welcome to M –
CUSTOMER: Okay-this-is-the-fifth-time-I’ve-been-transferred-and-I-just-want-to-say-this-once:-can-I-have-my-Internet-settings-on-my-Superpac-plan?
DARYL: … I see –
CUSTOMER WITH ANGER MANAGEMENT ISSUES: And-what-kind-of-a-lousy-service-is-this?
DARYL: I’m really sorry, Ma’am –
CUSTOMER WHO GAVE BIRTH WITH AN EPIDURAL: I-had-to-wait-for-fifteen-minutes!
DARYL: (thinking, and hoping he might actually say, “WOW MA’AM DO YOU KNOW THE MAIN LINE HAS A WAITING LIST OF 40 MINUTES WHY DON’T YOU TRY THAT EH”) Please hold.
[...]
DARYL: Ma’am?
CUSTOMER WHOSE MOTHER MIGHT HAVE BEEN SLAIN BY THE WHOLE OF M1, BUT WHO KNOWS: Yes?
DARYL: No.
CUSTOMER: (in a constantly shrill voice that necessitates the permanent use of italics and words never separated by a space) Anyway,-I-want-to-know-the-name-of-the-officer-who-first-talked-to-me.
DARYL: Well, Ma’am, according to the system, I know the name of the person who last transferred you.
CUSTOMER: That-is-good-enough.
DARYL: (reading from the screen) “Nick.”
CUSTOMER: (repeating after me, for she is a parrot) “Nick?”
DARYL: Was the first officer a male?
CUSTOMER: No,-a-girl.
DARYL: Oh, okay. It’s “Nick.”
CUSTOMER: “Nick.”
DARYL: “Nick.”
*
2. The Pursuit of Mr. Chew
DARYL: (calling back Mr. Chew, to follow-up) Hello, this is M1 speaking.
MR. CHEW: (in a surprisingly high, female voice) Ah — harlo?
DARYL: (not quite believing he said this) Are you Mr. Chew?
NOT MR. CHEW: Er — no?
DARYL: (not quite believing he’s insisting, but still) Mr. Chew Tee Choon?
OBVIOUSLY NOT MR. CHEW: No?
DARYL: Do you know anyone called Chew Tee Choon?
OBVIOUSLY NOT MR. CHEW: No?
DARYL: Oh, so sorry — goodbye.
OBVIOUSLY NOT MR. CHEW: (just as she was hanging up, voice in the distance) Wah, I can’t believe this guy sucks so mu –
DARYL: (calling the right number, definitely) Hello, Mr. Chew?
THE CORRECT MR. CHEW: Hello?
DARYL: This is M1 speaking –
PHONE LINE: dunh, dunh, dunh, dunh –
DARYL: (to the entire office, but mostly exasperating to himself) HE JUST HUNG UP ON ME
DARYL: (calling the right number, the second time, with half the office beside me) Hello, Mr. Chew?
THE CORRECT MR. CHEW: Ah, hello?
DARYL: This is M1 — please don’t hang up on me!
ENTIRE HALF OF OFFICE: (Mahesh makes a what-in-the-world-did-I-just-hear-that jaw-dropping I’m-so-shocked-face, Erni makes a oh-my-God-he-just-said-that finger-wagging expression to Mahesh, and Lauren starts a LOL-what-a-himbo kind of laughter, all three happening immediately and at the same time)
*
There are many things to catch up on over the weekend: there’re friends, there’s anime, there’s fanfiction, there’s manga, and there’s 150 pages left in A.H.W.O.S.G., all of which should be gone soon.
Obviously, there must be Grey’s tonight. How could I forget?
yam.