Wasted

 The moment that really struck me was the part where the guy on the other end of the line complained "stop wasting my time!"

This was Mike. Or Terry. Or Bill. The customer service representative for some company that wanted to inform me about a new policy that would cover all my burial and cremation expenses. 

Starting from the beginning: I am not planning on dying, so the prospect of having my remains taken care of didn't seem like a priority for me. Not at four o'clock on a Monday afternoon after a long day herding my young charges at the elementary school. 

That is why, when the faintly robotic voice that came on the line asking for my age and other questions like have I ever been diagnosed with tumors, lesions, or any other difficult to insure maladies, I decided to play along. I asked Sally how long she had been a robot. After a mildly robotic pause, she insisted that she was speaking to me through a computer so there could be some delay. "Okay Sally, if you're not a robot, why not tell me about the weather in your area?"

Another automated pause, followed by a pasted response: "Wonderful," then "Are you between the ages of fifty and eighty?" I let Sally know that I would tell her my age if she would let me in on just how long she had been a robot. Which tossed me back to the response about speaking to me through a computer and there could be a delay. 

Realizing the loop in which I was trapped, I decided to volunteer my age. Acquiescing seemed to brighten Sally's mood: "Great! Let me transfer you to my supervisor who will share the details with you."  

Sounds of electronic switching, then I was on the line with Mike. Or Terry. Or Bill. Having introduced himself, I made a quick inquiry as to Sally's condition. "She didn't seem very interested in me as a person."

This brought a mirthless laugh from MikeorTerryorBill. "Can I have your name please?"

I told him my name was David Carradine. I spelled it for him.

This is when he admonished me for "wasting" his time. "That's not your real name." Perhaps he was familiar with David Carradine's work in Kung Fu, or his late-career appearance in Kill Bill. Or maybe he was staring at a list of telephone numbers with my name next to the one Sally had dialed. 

I queried , "So who is wasting whose time?"

It was at this point that MikeorTerryorBill told me, "It's been great catching up, but I have to get going." Except those weren't his exact words. Let's just say it was less than professional and certainly not cordial. 

Then he hung up. 

Another day's energy spent.