Their Call Is Important To Me
Thanks to caller I.D., I’ve ignored all my landline calls for years. Don’t make the same mistake. I assumed, stupidly, these calls were a nuisance devised by lunatics, just another of modernity’s many plagues. Not long ago, the little caller I.D. window on my cordless became fouled with peanut butter in a breakfast mishap of epic proportions. Amid the confusion, the phone rang and I answered it. A synthetically modulated female voice began speaking after a short, whirring lapse. She was from MSJCA, an entity I recognized from many years of screening my incoming calls. Maybe it was the peanut butter in my ear, but her voice was warm and soothing. As I listened I began to relax. “Ms Jackae”, as I like to call her, quickly alerted me to three potentially serious problem areas but assured me she had answers. All I had to do was schedule a consultation with a MSJCA sales representative. I was disappointed, but realized “Ms Jackae” was probably too busy with her outreach mission to conduct a personal meeting with the likes of me. The sales rep lacked her charm but made up for it with efficient dispatch. Those problems “Ms Jackae” had warned me about? They never occurred. Can I say with absolute certainty MSJCA’s intervention had anything to do with it? That’s for smarter men than me to decide. I’ve since wiped the peanut butter off my phone and covered the caller I.D. window with duct tape. To paraphrase my new phone friends, their calls are important to me, and I answer each one in the order in which it was received. Here are some of my closest contacts:
Las Vegas, NV: I couldn’t believe it either. I’m on Sin City’s speed dial. Sometimes Vegas calls late at night, drunk, wanting to talk. Sometimes the calls are brusque but hey, Vegas is a busy place and I don’t mind slipping it a few bucks now and then. I get a big kick when it “punks” me and calls to say I owe it money and I’d better pay it back, or else. Whee!
Procedures: Their name begs the question, “what kind, exactly?” The answer is, “many kinds!” I’ve had three so far, none of them particularly painful. After the second one, a bluish lump swelled on my rib cage. It feels a little like a distributer cap from a Ford Fiesta. I’m scheduled for an exploratory procedure next week.
Blockbuster Video: Yea, I know. I thought they were gone, too. Like a nephew you’ve not seen in years, BV has become a man and put away childish things like renting me DVD’s at reasonable prices that I can keep way beyond the due date and never get charged a late fee. A man, it seems, who wants to teach his daft old uncle the importance of honoring business agreements. He calls frequently to remind me that an account has been established in my name to facilitate the purchase, at full retail price, of all delinquent DVD’s. Is it too late to return Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides. I hope not.
Security: It’s unclear what kind of security concerns them. Financial, Social or blankets, who knows? In our many conversations I ask only open-ended questions hoping to draw them out. They are evasive yet have no problem asking me very probing and personal things. Maybe they’re listening right now, watching me, waiting for me to make a wrong move. Oh, God, I know they’re out there!
The States: Why would something as big and important as a state call me? They’re so busy taking the ax to public employee’s and services and trying to woo business with Third World wages and zero regulation, you’d think they just wouldn’t have the time. I haven’t heard from Arkansas or South Dakota, however. Maybe they dumped their service provider to save money. Texas, on the other hand, won’t leave me alone, calling four, five times a day, threatening to secede. Go ahead, I say. Losing Texas would be like having a procedure to remove hemorrhoids. Good riddance, flaming assholes!