Last Time: PART I
Now: PART II
Needless to say, nothing less desirable than someone using my phone could have occurred at that time. I’m waiting for something important, maybe even life changing, and it all depends on keeping my phone line clear. Of course that exact moment is when fate deposits a man, looking to borrow a phone, on my doorstep. Could it have happened any other way?
“Sorry. I can‘t right now.” I said.
“ I won’t be more than a moment. Scout’s honour.”
I felt bad about trying to get rid of this guy. I mean, I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to get a call at all. Six days went by where Anonymous Consumers could have phoned and they didn’t. So what were they chances they’d phone in these few moments it took to help this guy out? Still, rationalizations are generally wasted on me, and this time was no exception.
“I don’t have a phone.”
“What? In this day and age, you can’t find a phone that suits your lifestyle and price range? Come on.”
“Look. I think my neighbour is home. I’m sure they…”
“Buddy, I understand the inconvenience, but I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” he said.
So what do you do? Flip a coin? It’s a lot easier to say no to someone when they aren’t standing right in front of you, especially when they have not taken no for an answer three times already. So what could I do? Only what I always do. I relented.
"Alright." I said.
“You are a goddamn saint, sir. I thank you.”
“Hoo-Wee! This is an okay place.” He exclaimed as he stepped into the living room.
“Thanks.”
“ Your welcome. Where’s your phone?”
“Right here.” I said, handing it to him.
“I thank you again. So what do you do, anyway?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“For work. Where do you work?”
“Oh. Nowhere, currently.”
“I see. Excuse me, uno momento.”
As he spoke into the phone, I tuned him out and dwelled on the fact that, if this guy wasn’t making phone calls right now, my phone might be ringing with word of new beginnings and opportunities. His laughter broke me out of my introspection in time to hear him say “Salad? Ah, fuck that.”
This didn’t at all jive with what I thought this phone call was going to be about. In fact, this didn’t seen important at all. I tapped him on the shoulder, and he put his hand over the phone. I told him I was expecting an important call. He nodded in understanding and returned to his conversation. A few minutes later, it was over.
“Sorry about that. My wife is very particular in her tastes, and I can’t abide them. Car troubles have put enough of a crimp in my day. I’m not about to let lunch get fucked up, too.” he explained.
I started to protest as he dialled again. He seemed not to notice, and I said nothing. This time he seemed to actually be talking to a tow truck company. After a few more moments, he hung up and sighed.
“Sorry, kemosabe, but I could really use a drink. Do you have anything like that?”
“Not much. Just some whiskey.” I said.
“Whiskey! That’s my favourite word, and my second favourite drink. Pour us a glass, would you? On the rocks, if you’d be so kind.”
I did as he asked. He took a long sip from the glass and seemed well satisfied.
“Thanks for that. So where was it you said you worked again?”
“Nowhere.” I said.
“Shit. Right.” he said. “So where did you last work?”
I ended up explaining the whole story that I related to you just last week.
“Damn right, son. I would have done the same fucking thing.” he said, as he finished his drink. “Let me tell you something right now. That Jared is a fucking bastard. If there‘s one thing I respect, it‘s that kind of devotion to the job at hand. You have to be adaptable. You have to be ready to improvise. I could teach my cat to follow the handbook. Thinking on your feet, on the other hand, now that‘s a marketable skill. ”
I found myself liking this man. Before I knew it, I had refilled his glass, and had a full one of my own.
“So what are you looking for now?” he asked.
“Basically? Anything.” I admitted.
“Shit. Times are tough, aren’t they? I hear ya, pal. You know what the worst part about it is? People who need jobs are out there, hopelessly searching, while others who don’t deserve their jobs manage to keep them forever. Listen to this. I was in a gas station the other day. I dropped fifty goddamn dollars in that place and the guy never said ‘Thank you‘. Never said ‘Have a good day‘. Never asked me for my Air Miles card. Fucking prick. And the worst part is, he’s still there, still not doing the stuff he's supposed to. It should be him stuck looking for work, not you.”
I couldn’t disagree.
“A job is a job. You do it, or you lose it.” I said. This had been another of Jared’s tidbits of wisdom, but I didn’t bother to share that part.
“Fucking exactly! Salut!” my new friend said, raising his glass in the air, before tossing the remainder back. He looked at his watch.
“Well, shit. Tow truck should be here real soon.”
We stood from our seats as he put his coat back on. As he stepped outside, he stopped and turned back to me.
“I will never say I like having my car break down. But you’ve been a gracious host, and I’ve enjoyed my stay. I thank you for your hospitality, and wish you well.”
I replied that he had been a fine guest and it had been no trouble at all. He smiled and stepped away. As I closed the door, my thoughts immediately returned to the phone call I had been desperately hoping for and had not yet received.
It was getting late. There wasn’t going to be any phone call. I sighed with equal parts frustration and resignation. At least my guest had taken my mind off my troubles for an hour or so. I thought that maybe I should just go to bed early, and get an early start on tomorrow.
As I headed off to my bedroom, I passed by the phone and saw that it had been left off the hook. He’d left it that way. For over an hour. I shrieked.
I ran outside to yell and curse at him, but he was nowhere to be seen. I went back inside and hung up the phone. I sat on the couch with my head in my hands, and shook. That’s it. I just shook uncontrollably.
Time passed. How long, I do not know. Then, the phone rang. I snatched it up half way through that first ring, and said “Hello” in a breathless manner that could have easily been mistaken for “yellow”. I regretted it immediately.
It was a collection agency. I guess they don’t take Sunday’s off. I pretended to not know what they wanted or who they were looking for, and hung up.
Almost immediately, the phone rang again. It would be them again, I knew it. I also knew I couldn’t risk not answering. I picked it up. A woman spoke to me.
“Jamie S. Luxton III? This is Anonymous Consumers. We’d like you to come in for an interview tomorrow morning at nine.” she said.
I wanted to make kissing noises into the phone. Later that night, I would wonder if she was looking for a husband. But in that moment, I wasn’t thinking about my wife search at all.
“I’ll be there.” I said.
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