11/20/13

9-5


"Thanks for calling __________ , my name is Meghan.  Can I get the email address to your account, please?"  I answered in my usual manner, gilded with politeness.  The man at the other end of the line wasn't really buying it.  I can't blame him.

He probably wasn't rude.  Or not that rude, anyway.  I didn't appreciate his tone, but then again, I feel that way about 99.9999% of the people I speak with.  Unless they're from England and start a polite conversation about the weather or use the word "cracking" as an adjective.  I genuinely love that.  In any case, there was nothing about this particular customer service call that would justify me in doing something stupid, like cry. 

But there I was, doing it.  He asked me yet another question in his polished, sharp, condescending manner.  I paused for an awkward amount of time, swallowing as hard as I could.  I thought about how I felt really bad for his wife, if she existed.  I thought about how it was starting to rain, about all of the pretty pictures I could be taking if I weren't chained to this desk with financial obligations.  I thought, I thought, I swallowed, I wiped my eyes, tried to steady my voice. 

I transferred the call as quickly as I could to a department I'm not sure could even help him.  In fact, I'm positive that they couldn't because we don't have a department that teaches people how not to be total A-holes.  Not part of the business model.  (Sorry, Mom.)   

And it wouldn't have been that big of a deal if I weren't surrounded by people who couldn't help but notice the tears and strange sounds that were now falling out of my face.  At this point, I wasn't even crying about the phone call, I was crying about how embarrassed I was that everyone had seen me crying.  I went to eat my lunch of canned vegetable soup, which tasted fine.  I gave myself kudos for putting together a sort of decent outfit for the day.  This thought was followed by a generous portion of soup splattering all over my white shirt. And that irritated me just a tiny bit. 

So, there I was, standing over a sink in a break room in an undershirt, scrubbing my over shirt with dish soap, wondering what it is that I'm doing with my life anyway.

A few more hours.

15 comments:

  1. I'm sorry, Meg. I had a similar experience on Monday, except it was a lady that made me cry. I hate phone calls that ruin your day/week. It's the worst. Hopefully karma will catch up to these people.

    You're awesome though, and I miss your cute face.

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    1. Why does it get to you the way it does? It shouldn't bother me. I don't know these people, I'll never talk to them again. But it's just upsetting haha sometimes you can't help it! I miss you too! Thanks, Trish.

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  2. *hugs* I hate work. I hate lousy coworkers. I hate inexplicably bad days. Why can't we just stay in and read and photograph and live in our bathtubs?

    You are lovely. I'm sorry this was a hard day. I'm sending you love and healing vibes.

    Em
    Tightrope to the Sun

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    1. Living in a bathtub sounds wonderful. We need to figure out some sort of a way to make that happen.

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  3. Also question for you. I've started working on the literary magazine at the U of U and we are looking for submissions. I adore your work and would love to include it in the magazine. If you have any poetry or short stories (fewer than 2,000 words) you'd like to submit please please contact me. Your talent is too brilliant not to share. :)

    emma.j.phelps@gmail.com

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  4. This is sad! But totally real life. Unfortunately customers can be just so rude, especially if they don't have to see you physically. Being on the phone empowers people to be someone they're not sometimes. Sorry you had a bad day! I hope tomorrow will be better xo

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    1. So true! I shouldn't take it seriously, but sometimes it happens. Thanks, Sarah!

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  5. Ever wake up and feel like crying? This was just what I needed today.We're all in the same boat called life.Hang in there.xx

    dreaming is believing

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    1. Um, YES! haha that's how I've felt the past two weeks. Thank you!

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  6. this! precisely how i feel. i sit behind a computer for up 7 hours a day. i become bored and resentful toward the small talk and my exposure to it every day. i feel so excruciatingly stuck at this desk while simultaneously understanding that its more my perspective and habits that are making me stuck. which usually leads to my frustration and self-defeating cycle of thoughts. but at the same time i feel somewhat lucky that my job allows me my freedom once the clock strikes 5... i don't ever take work home with me. when i lock the door to this metaphorical prison is when i start my real life, when the real me emerges. and in some sense, i kinda dig that. (sorry for the book :) )

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    1. Oh, do not apologize, I love long comments :) That is a good point. This sort of job is the kind that you don't have to think about at all unless you're there. It's definitely one of the up sides. Thank you for pointing that out.

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  7. :( i almost cried at work once just cos i was sure one of my coworkers was talking about me. bleh.
    stupid coworkers. ;p

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    1. Amen! And how rude of them. What is their deal?

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  8. Oh goodness. I'm so sorry, Meg! Sending love and prayers your way. I've never experienced this, but sometimes on my way to basketball everything they told me on the way to games two years ago start repeating itself in my head and I do my best to not cry.

    I hope you get to talk to some English person today with a great vocabulary.

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  9. Ugh! How will we get through life always surrounded by these people? Dramatic? Rude? Good thing I can say anything to you. Love you. Sorry people suck.

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