Slow?
I can't even count how many different stories I've read about cell phones in public; like the one about the guy in the bathroom who was on his phone and got mad 'cause the guy in the next stall was talking to him every time he tried to talk on the phone.
"How ya doin'?"
"Good, how'bout you?"
"Shit, I gotta call you back, some jerk in the next stall won't shut up."
Saturday afternoon as I was headed into the ladies' room at Hobby Lobby, My Mom called. I answered and headed on in there -- since there wasn't anybody else in there, I figured it'd be no big deal to just hold the phone on my shoulder and keep talking. I told Mom where I was and what I was doing just to be sure there wouldn't be any awkwardness.
Somebody else came in. Things got a bit awkward.
I didn't want to be that weird person talking on the phone in the next stall, so I was hoping Mom would just keep talking and I could just keep listening quietly as I rushed to zip my jeans and wash my hands.
Mom was saying what she wanted to say and it was working out pretty good 'til the noise from the paper towel dispenser came across the phone. Mom stopped telling her story and asked "What the hell was that noise?"
"Oh, I was gettin' paper towels."
So, now I'm that weird person talking to herself out by the sinks.
Maybe it would've been less odd if I'd just kept talking for no real reason and just sat there in the stall a while longer 'til the other person was finished and left. "Who called you from Oklahoma CIty? Well yeah, that is odd..." Heh.
I didn't really want to deal with making eye-contact with the person who heard me talking to myself about paper towels, so I dried my hands super-fast and hurried my weirdness back out to the model car aisle where I could be easily seen with a phone, as well as another human being, and just talk without worrying about it.
Fast forward to today, Monday afternoon...
I have a couple on the other side of the counter who are on their third trip here today and claim that the truck is "leakin' outta that silver thing in front of the radiator." Mmmm-kay, well, the grille is silver and in front of the radiator, but does not contain any substance that might leak out. I determine that it's the AC Condenser, they say yes, I ask the important questions to determine that it's an '89 Ford Truck, and I send somebody out to get one off the shelf. "He'll be right back," I say.
While they're waiting for him to bring that condenser down the ladder and back into the lobby, the phone rings.
The phones on the counter look like this:
(I know, my notebook is lookin' kinda raggedy, but...)
So, with only the three of us in the room, there's a ringing sound, and there's me, lifting that big, obvious receiver to my ear.
The caller says he talked to someone a couple weeks ago about an axle for an S-10 Blazer. I know it wasn't me, but since I'm the only one on the counter, I figure I'd better puzzle it out and see what I can find...
With the big ol' phone held up to my left ear, and a computer keyboard underneath my right hand, I ask "What year was it?"
The caller replies "2000." The female half of the couple also replies, "1989."
As I my right hand flips away at the ten-key portion of an older PC keyboard, I try to remember the four-digit code for S-10 Blazer. Silently, in my own head, I'm struggling with 54, 56, 65, 64, oh, there it is, 2-3-5-6, and as I manage to punch it in, I say, into the phone, "And it's an S-10 Blazer, let's see..."
The caller replies, "Yup, S-10 Blazer." From across the counter I hear a nearly frustrated voice say "No, it's a Ford Truck!"
The couple left without the condenser, because that "wasn't it." They needed "the other thing in front of the radiator, the one that had transmission fluid running out if it." Well, then that's not the condenser, that's the transmission cooler.
I'm just glad they're not sittin' here givin' me the heebie-jeebies anymore.
The guy with the S-10 Blazer is picking up the axle tomorrow, I'll have to ask him if he could hear anything in the background when we talked on the phone. Heh heh...
Sometimes it's a bitch, but sometimes it's hilarious!
More later... _\,,/
"How ya doin'?"
"Good, how'bout you?"
"Shit, I gotta call you back, some jerk in the next stall won't shut up."
Saturday afternoon as I was headed into the ladies' room at Hobby Lobby, My Mom called. I answered and headed on in there -- since there wasn't anybody else in there, I figured it'd be no big deal to just hold the phone on my shoulder and keep talking. I told Mom where I was and what I was doing just to be sure there wouldn't be any awkwardness.
Somebody else came in. Things got a bit awkward.
I didn't want to be that weird person talking on the phone in the next stall, so I was hoping Mom would just keep talking and I could just keep listening quietly as I rushed to zip my jeans and wash my hands.
Mom was saying what she wanted to say and it was working out pretty good 'til the noise from the paper towel dispenser came across the phone. Mom stopped telling her story and asked "What the hell was that noise?"
"Oh, I was gettin' paper towels."
So, now I'm that weird person talking to herself out by the sinks.
Maybe it would've been less odd if I'd just kept talking for no real reason and just sat there in the stall a while longer 'til the other person was finished and left. "Who called you from Oklahoma CIty? Well yeah, that is odd..." Heh.
I didn't really want to deal with making eye-contact with the person who heard me talking to myself about paper towels, so I dried my hands super-fast and hurried my weirdness back out to the model car aisle where I could be easily seen with a phone, as well as another human being, and just talk without worrying about it.
Fast forward to today, Monday afternoon...
I have a couple on the other side of the counter who are on their third trip here today and claim that the truck is "leakin' outta that silver thing in front of the radiator." Mmmm-kay, well, the grille is silver and in front of the radiator, but does not contain any substance that might leak out. I determine that it's the AC Condenser, they say yes, I ask the important questions to determine that it's an '89 Ford Truck, and I send somebody out to get one off the shelf. "He'll be right back," I say.
While they're waiting for him to bring that condenser down the ladder and back into the lobby, the phone rings.
The phones on the counter look like this:
(I know, my notebook is lookin' kinda raggedy, but...)
So, with only the three of us in the room, there's a ringing sound, and there's me, lifting that big, obvious receiver to my ear.
The caller says he talked to someone a couple weeks ago about an axle for an S-10 Blazer. I know it wasn't me, but since I'm the only one on the counter, I figure I'd better puzzle it out and see what I can find...
With the big ol' phone held up to my left ear, and a computer keyboard underneath my right hand, I ask "What year was it?"
The caller replies "2000." The female half of the couple also replies, "1989."
As I my right hand flips away at the ten-key portion of an older PC keyboard, I try to remember the four-digit code for S-10 Blazer. Silently, in my own head, I'm struggling with 54, 56, 65, 64, oh, there it is, 2-3-5-6, and as I manage to punch it in, I say, into the phone, "And it's an S-10 Blazer, let's see..."
The caller replies, "Yup, S-10 Blazer." From across the counter I hear a nearly frustrated voice say "No, it's a Ford Truck!"
The couple left without the condenser, because that "wasn't it." They needed "the other thing in front of the radiator, the one that had transmission fluid running out if it." Well, then that's not the condenser, that's the transmission cooler.
I'm just glad they're not sittin' here givin' me the heebie-jeebies anymore.
The guy with the S-10 Blazer is picking up the axle tomorrow, I'll have to ask him if he could hear anything in the background when we talked on the phone. Heh heh...
Sometimes it's a bitch, but sometimes it's hilarious!
More later... _\,,/
Labels: People Watchin', Work
posted by Debbie at 2:06 PM
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