I’ve been waiting for a phone call for two days. I can’t wait to hear the great news and I’ve found I’m actually making plans around an imaginary schedule so that I won’t be busy when the phone rings. My showers are faster, the phone’s not too far away from the dining table, and the kids aren’t even allowed to have their movies up too loud! I cannot miss this call!
One evening, at 8:45, I was in the shower and certain it was too late to hear any good news; besides I had just experienced quite a gruelling day that seemed to ride on every nerve of my body. The plan was to finish with my shower and send my kids to bed. Then I could indulge in some much needed sleep. My body was crushed and so was my ability to reason.
The restroom was full of steam and I could feel my muscles beginning to relax as I worked my hair into a frenzied foam. Oh, what on earth will tomorrow bring? I wondered, trying desperately not to think of anything.
Despite having a headful of lather, I could hear my phone ringing. I wiped the steam from the shower door to be able to see the wall clock– 8:55? I began rinsing the lather from my hair, getting stinging soap in my eyes and managing to get some under my contact lens. I stretched for the towel, searched with one open eye, while soap burned the other, and snatched it from the wall. Two rings…. “Oh hang on!” I yelled to my phone as if it had ears. Peeking out my bathroom door to ensure there were no adolescent eyes to witness a horror greater than imaginable, I reached for the phone! “Hello?” I said, gasping into the phone desperately, “Hello?”
There was a pause until the voice at the other end stated unemotionally, “This is (such and such company) and we are calling in order to collect a debt. Any and all information used during this call…….All of our agents are busy…. please hold.”
“Please hold?” I asked the noone on the other end as if I were the bad end of a practical joke. “Are you kidding me?” As I took a deep breath, I felt sorry for the person on the other end of the phone. I’m sure they were more accustomed to the language I planned on using than I was. I was so infuriated, I had no intention of making their job easy, as I squeezed my burning eye, grasped my towel, and thought about the hot water as it flowed down the drain in the other room. I waited on hold for the sing-song happy voice of the bill collector while I listened, unappreciatively, to elevator music.
Click. I figured they’d done their job.
Can you relate?