People are strange
My mom’s cell phone rings. My mom’s upstairs, so I answer it.
A woman on the phone says, “Your ??? are ready. You can come pick them up anytime.” (She’s speaking very quickly, and she’s speaking loudly enough for there to be audio clipping. Plus, I get lousy cell phone reception at my house, so I can’t fully make out what she’s saying.)
“Uh, what?” (She’s not expecting to pick up anything.)
“??? are ready.”
“I’m sorry, could you say that again?”
“This is ??? and we’re calling about the ??? you ordered” (If someone asks you to repeat something, slow down!)
“I think you have the wrong number.”
She confidently replies, “No, I have the right number.” (A normal person would simply apologize and hang up, trusting that the called party knows what they’re talking about.)
“Exactly whom are you looking for?” (Isn’t this something she should have established from the start?)
“Martha.”
“There is no one named Martha here. Sorry, bye!”
The next day, she calls again. This time my mom answers the phone and has almost the same exact conversation. (The woman calling from the store is so loud that I can hear her over the cell phone speaker, again insisting that she has the right number.)
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