Call Center
South Korea: tourists ride above the Ara Nabi Sea, photo from Google Images:
Headline from foxnews.com: “Latino voters swing back to Democrats ahead of midterm elections: poll.” Not surprising given the illegal immigration crackdown, which seems to involve Hispanics almost exclusively.
Rain terminated the Anti-Inflation Book Shop less than an hour into today’s session. My thanks to the woman who gave me another five bucks for the next time I have Russian books to her liking, and to the woman who bought Inherit the Wind, that rousing play by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee, brought to life on the big screen by Hollywood great Spencer Tracy and Frederic March. Photo from GI:
I didn’t spot any other fresh items in today’s news, so here’s the first page of my latest story, as yet untitled and unfinished:
The phone rang. She stared at it, hoping the caller would have a change of heart. She adjusted her headset and answered after the fourth ring, pressing a button.
“Meg Leary speaking,” she said, leaning back in the comfortable swivel chair. “How can I help you?”
“Hi,” said the caller, hesitating.
Meg detected nervousness in the male voice. “Sir?”
“I’m trying to reach Fox Mulder or Dana Scully.”
Meg rolled her eyes heavenward. “I’m sorry, sir, but there are no agents by those names at the bureau. The X-Files was a TV show, complete fiction.”
“That’s what the powers that be want us to believe, but Mulder knows better.”
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Meg had hoped it was a prank call, but the guy was serious, apparently. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t help you. If you’re in danger contact your local authorities.”
As soon as she ended the call, the phone rang. She noted the number. It was her supervisor, Jean, whom she’d never met in the flesh.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Hey, Meg. Next time ask who the person means by ‘us.’ It was probably just some poor soul, but you never know.”
“There are so many. I feel so bad for them.”
The calls were recorded.
“I know, hon. This idea seems to be going nowhere, so don’t be surprised if it’s terminated soon. I’ll see if I can get you reassigned elsewhere. You’re obviously a keeper.”
Meg almost hoped it would happen, although the pay was more than she’d ever earned and the benefits were terrific. “Thanks, Jean.”
“And by the way — answer after the first ring.”
She was about to offer a lame excuse for not having done so, then realized the activity might be filmed. “Okay.”
She’d been on the job two weeks, a civilian employee. “Leary” wasn’t her last name. Her mentor had assigned it to her hoping callers would feel at ease knowing the last name.
To be continued — I know not when.
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