I got a call at work today, and it just started off weird because my phone was ringing with a default ring, not the Beulah song I have normally. I didn’t recognize the number so I just answered with my regular work answer.
“This is Erik.”
“Is this Erik?” (This frequent response kills me)
“Yes it is.”
“This is [rank, somebody] from the U.S. Army recruiting office, How are you doing?”
“Fine”
“Good, I understand you are a student at the University of Utah.”
“I was last year.”
“Oh, did you graduate?”
“No.” (My playtime algorithm is kicking in and overriding my politeness filter)
“Did you transfer schools?”
“No, Dropped out.”
“Oh (he’s finding his opening now, maybe money problems??), was there a reason?”
“Cancer.” (ok, you have to get some milage out of having it)
It’s at this point I can hear the gears grinding as he shifts into non-standard phone conversation.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
I can tell that his wheels are kind of spinning and my politeness filter slips in while playtime is laughing.
“I’m too old anyway.”
He grabs at this lifeline eagerly.
“Oh, how old are you?”
“Forty-one.”
“Well, the cutoff age is 42 now! Uh… how is your prognosis doing?”
“50-50”
“Oh. Well, do you know anyone who would be interested in a bazillion (or something like that) college dollars?”
“Nobody who’s not doing it.”
“Ok, well…. I uh, hope your uh… recovery goes ok.”
“Thanks.”