I took a phone call today. No surprise there. However, this particular call lasted two hours and fifteen minutes, involved calls to three other departments, I talked to two individuals from the original calling location, and had to take one break to breathe while my brain attempted to catch up with the situation.
Even with the call over, I have follow-up to do in a week.
Needless to say, I never want to spend more than two hours on the phone with anyone unless I’m talking to a woman I consider stunningly beautiful and worthy of my time.
Sure, I spent most of the call talking to a girl who sounded my age (you’d be surprised how much you can stereotype people by the sound of their voice), but what good does that do me?
Be sure to rent the old Clint Eastwood movie “Play Misty For Me” (his directorial debut, c. 1972). Perhaps one of the first stalker films of the then-modern era. That’ll cure ya.
Sorry, not intending to be a buzzkill or anything. :~
I’m no saint, but I’m no stalker.
never said you were. it had more to do with the “mystery voice at the other end of the phone” aspect of it. in other words, you would have been Clint in my analogy (tortured though it may have been).
Ah, okay.