The Granola Board

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I'm Sorry, He Can't Come to the Phone Right Now

It was a Thursday afternoon in early May 2002. My home number rang. Since friends and family know I work from a home office, they usually don't call during business hours. I'd been getting more than the usual number of wrong numbers for Wal-Mart lately, I answered the phone politely, "Thank you for not calling your unfriendly neighborhood Wal-Mart, how may I not help you?"

The woman on the other end of the line asked, "Can I speak to the manager, please?"

"I'm sorry," I said politely, "he's not here." Then I hung up.

About 15 minutes later, the phone rang again. I answered the phone somewhat less politely, "Thank you for not calling your unfriendly neighborhood Wal-Mart, how may I not help you?"

This time, the woman on the other end of the phone was obviously miffed, "Can I speak to the manager?"

"He's not here," I stated firmly. Then I hung up. By this point, I was convinced I was talking to a real idiot. Twice I'd answered the phone in a way that was clear she hadn't reached who she had intended, and twice she demanded the manager anyway.

To my surprise, a few minutes later, the phone rang again. It was the same woman. I answered the phone a third time, "Thank you for not calling your unfriendly neighborhood Wal-Mart, how may I not help you?"

"I want to talk to the manager, I know he's there!"

"I'm sorry, he can't come to the phone. He's dead. An elderly lady tried to return a television she'd bought at K-Mart, and he wouldn't accept the return. She became enraged and beat him to death with her umbrella." Then again, I hung up. At this point, it was all I could do to contain myself. My business partner was sitting across from me, biting her hand, trying not to laugh.

Five minutes later, the phone rang a fourth time. I couldn't believe the tenacity of this woman. "Thank you for not calling your unfriendly neighborhood Wal-Mart, how may I not help you?"

At this point, the lady was furious! "Is that any way to answer your telephone?" she demanded.

"Sure, it's my phone, I can answer it any way I like."

Enraged, the woman screamed at me, "Where is the manager, I want to speak to the manager NOW!"

I replied politely, "I am the manager!"

At this point, the woman lost it. She was so angry she should barely speak, "How can you answer the phone this way? It's not professional!"

At this point, I decided I'd tormented this particular idiot enough, so I clued her in. "As I've said each time you've called, you've not reached Wal-Mart. If you are looking for the manager of Wal-Mart, you'll need to call xxx-xxxx. Then I hung up. My business partner and I had a good laugh, and then I started to feel guilty...

Read on about my guilt trip.