Based in London, UK, this is a blog by Shamiso Mushambi. Her posts explore modern life

through comedy, drama and the odd photo.

Good Patter

Before I recount this I should say that I have altered the names of the companies and people involved.

Sometimes at work, I answer the main phone. It's nothing new. Over the course of my career I have done it tens of thousands of times.

You won't be surprised to know that I have spoken to several hundred sales personnel over the years. It's usually pretty easy to spot them. They start off slow, introduce themselves, try to establish some sort of connection. It is the usual patter and I recognise it pretty well. By now they have all blurred into one dull exchange of words where I bat them away firmly. Some try again: one sales dude rang every day for seven working days straight hoping to sneak through but always found me and couldn't seem get his head around the idea that I was there full time. I have heard it all: false interest, aggressive pushiness and everything in between.  I can deal with a sales call with my eyes closed. Except today.

Today I answered the phone and it went something like this:

Me: Hello! Mycompany Studio! How can I help?

Caller: Hi there, Mycompany Studio?

Me: Yes sir! How can I help?

Caller: How are you?

At this point, I sigh. I don’t have time for this.

Me: Very well sir! And yourself?

Caller: I am good. I am good. I am very glad it is nearing the end of the day. I am off the cinema this evening.

Me: I see.

Caller: I am off to see the latest Mission Impossible.

Pause

I am amused. Whatever! I play along

Me: I heard it's good.

Caller: Yes, yes I heard that too. I must admit. I have really seen any of them since the first one.

I find myself actively trying to resist the urge to get talking about the intervening movies. Don't fall for it! But…He carries on

Caller: I’ve got to admit I am really looking forward to going to the cinema....siting in front of a very big screen...eating M&Ms.

I have a vivid picture in my mind. White male, mid-twenties to mid-thirties, sat at the cinema, which is empty apart from him. He wears a blue shirt, dark tie, boxers, no trousers (don't know why), black socks and shoes…

Me: I see.

Caller: Anyhow, who is it that looks after your marketing?

Me: That would be my colleague Amanda I am not sure if she is free at the moment but if you let me know your name and where you are calling from, I can check.

Caller: Great! I am James from FancyMagazine. Five feet something, brown hair, blue eyes no tattoos.

Me: Sorry?

Caller: That's James from FancyMagazine.

Me: Okay, I will check if she is around.

Caller: If she isn't...

I sniff weakness

Caller: Is she isn't, it would be great to have an email address I could reach her on.

Me: Okay. Hold on a moment. I will check.

 I put the phone on hold.

I turn to my colleague. At this moment I realise I am blushing. The man on the phone is inside my head. I try to be non chalant as I ask her if she knows him and or would like to talk. She declines. I ask if I should pass on her email address - as casually as I can. Because suddenly, I feel bad for the man on the line. I can hear an argument in my head:

What?

 I don't want him to come away with nothing.

Ummm?

Amanda agrees to let me pass on her email.

I return to James

Me: Sorry James, she is busy. But you are welcome to email her if you wish.

Caller: Okay, that's fine. What is it?

Me: It's amanda.glover@mycompany.com.

Caller: Is that is spelt A.M.A.N.D.A?

Me: Correct.

Caller: And Glover spelt G.L.O.V.E.R?

Me: Correct.

Caller: Like the actor - Danny Glover?

Me: Correct.

Caller: Great actor. Great guy!  

I am physically contorting with the effort of trying not to dive into a conversation about Danny Glover and which of his films that I like the most.

Caller: And what is your name?

Me: Shamiso.

Caller: Shamisa?

Me: Shamiso. Yes.

Caller: I have never ever, come across a name like before!

Shocker!

Caller: In my whole life. Shamiso? huh? Such a unique sounding name! Interesting.

I am almost certain he will ask me what it means or where is from.

Caller: Shamisooooooo. So cool.

Suddenly the blushing intensifies.

Caller: If I have a daughter, I will call her Shamiso.

A beat

Me: Okay.

My mind races:

Don't you want to know what it means? Oh god, please ask me what it means. Ask me anything! Suddenly I am desperate to impress James. What the fuck for?

What sort of Jedi shit is this? Is this some next generation sales tool? Why I am struggling resisting the urge to giggle? Suddenly I feel ENORMOUSLY SINGLE.

I make a mental note to google James later.

But what the fuck for you silly woman? It's just sales patter. And you are desperate!

Yes! And? What if James is special? 

Excuse me?

Caller: Well great. Thank you! Have a good evening.

Me: Same to you.

Caller: Good bye.

I hung up still desperate to talk to James and obtain his approval.

Eww! Who are you woman? Have you no self-respect? YOU ARE A TEN YEAR ADMIN PROFESSIONAL! The fuck is wrong with you? You did the vocal equivalent of removing your knickers...

Don't say it.

Slut.

Silence.

Ladies and gentlemen. I did not google James.

For a whole 52 minutes.

That's dignity right there.

 

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