Dork
“Kramer, you sound like a dork.”
I fetched that message off my voicemail at 4:31 PM. I listened twice before I dumped it from the system. Possibly some southern or Texas twang in it? More than likely female, my guess would put the age between 25 & 45 – a good target demographic. In fact, it’s an excellent target demographic – just about my favorite, right gender, right age range, perhaps some southern lilt in the voice, sure.
The expression, “dork,” is such a mature way to describe a wide range of sentiments. Problem being, with no name, no number, there’s not much of a chance to call back – no avenue for intellectual discourse. There’s no way I can enter into a discussion with the person on the other end. It’s a voicemail, the recording says, “Leave a number.”
To me, after listening to voice messages for years – I’ve had that one business number for over a decade, I think – I can tell a little bit from background noise. That one call, it sounded like it was coming from a phone room. One of those horrendous, outbound call centers. There’s a certain rush of noise, a distinct background rumble that comes from listening to that other end of the phone, the sound-squelching circuits are sort of heard over a distant din of other voices.
I used to have a lot of sympathy for anyone who worked in an outbound call center because I’ve had friends who’ve worked there. But these days, having been awaken one too many times by a telemarketer, I have less patience. However, this happened the other evening, when one call got through to me, I politely declined, emphasis on polite, and terminated the call in short order. Save your breath.
It’s not like I’m not available, after a fashion. I tend to respond to e-mail, although, these days, there’s a half-day lag in my response time. I’ve taken to letting the mail age, like wine or cheese, letting it mature some. Besides, I’ve been up to my elbows with Mercury [Retrograde in Libra, the relationship sign> \\related\\ work.
That Mercury work is much like yesterday’s quote. In general, relationships and nerves are tenuous, at best. But that’s just the astrological weather. Under a sunny afternoon sky, I decided that I wasn’t going to let people get me down, and as I prepared for yet another reading, I stopped by the old Ruta Maya and picked up an A. Fuente 8-5-8 cigar. For some reason, that particular cigar just makes everything more leisurely, easier to accept, life is good, even if Mercury is retrograde.
I never claimed not to be dork, either. In fact, I would kind of take that as a point of pride, being called one. Look at the picture, I look like a dork in the front of the boat.
But like another dork suggests, Polonius in \\Hamlet\\, “To thine own self be true,” I have to be true to myself. Yes, I am a dork. But then, so is Polonius [especially in Act II, Scene ii>, and that person who left a short message? Probably stuck in an outbound call center?
