Is this the party to whom I am speaking?
I have a part-time job listening to people's voicemail recordings, who don't know I'm on the other side. It's so interesting to me, listening to folks speaking into their receiver, guessing what image is in their heads of what/who is really receiving their call.
Okay, I confess. It's my own private sociology experiment, and it slays me.
They're calling because they received a postcard in the mail inviting them to a free seminar, including a free dinner. Some of them understand the instructions, and some of them don't. So, some of the callers are very short and clippy. They don't like the auto attendant. (Really, I don't blame them one bit.) Some of them think they'll be understood better if they talk robot talk. My. Name. Is. Inez. Jones. My. Address. Is. 1.2.5.8....You get the idea. Hilarious! But, of course, they think Robby the Robot is listening, not a live body. Some of them are nervous, because they don't know what's on the other side of the line really, so they either hang up (sometimes 3 times), or they talk REALLY fast. As if speaking quickly proved that they knew what they were doing after all, thank you very much. And, of course, on my end, trying to transcribe these calls can be challenging. Partly because I don't understand them, and partly because they crack me up.
I love the men from Texas. Slow, deep, loud. Hear them once and I've got their message. Minnesota and Wisconsin folks tend to be slow, but not always loud. Sometimes the women will say at the end, "Jesus loves you," or "God bless you," so I assume they figure a person will get their message, and not BIG BROTHER messaging system. Who knows. Sometimes, people leave their message and...just...sigh.
Anyway, I almost feel like an auditory voyeur. They don't know this chic from Michigan is listening to their stumbling and their swearing, their subtle reminders that they are requesting "FREE" tickets for the dinner. They don't know I'm hearing everything as the wife is nagging her husband to remember to TELL THEM HOW MANY TICKETS DAGNABIT!!
Tonight I swear I got that blonde guy from King Of The Hill that none of us understands yet we do...
"Yeah, I'll take blblblbl at blblblblb Septem blblblll Omaha blblblb free taxpay blblblbl. Four tickets please."
Okay, I confess. It's my own private sociology experiment, and it slays me.
They're calling because they received a postcard in the mail inviting them to a free seminar, including a free dinner. Some of them understand the instructions, and some of them don't. So, some of the callers are very short and clippy. They don't like the auto attendant. (Really, I don't blame them one bit.) Some of them think they'll be understood better if they talk robot talk. My. Name. Is. Inez. Jones. My. Address. Is. 1.2.5.8....You get the idea. Hilarious! But, of course, they think Robby the Robot is listening, not a live body. Some of them are nervous, because they don't know what's on the other side of the line really, so they either hang up (sometimes 3 times), or they talk REALLY fast. As if speaking quickly proved that they knew what they were doing after all, thank you very much. And, of course, on my end, trying to transcribe these calls can be challenging. Partly because I don't understand them, and partly because they crack me up.
I love the men from Texas. Slow, deep, loud. Hear them once and I've got their message. Minnesota and Wisconsin folks tend to be slow, but not always loud. Sometimes the women will say at the end, "Jesus loves you," or "God bless you," so I assume they figure a person will get their message, and not BIG BROTHER messaging system. Who knows. Sometimes, people leave their message and...just...sigh.
Anyway, I almost feel like an auditory voyeur. They don't know this chic from Michigan is listening to their stumbling and their swearing, their subtle reminders that they are requesting "FREE" tickets for the dinner. They don't know I'm hearing everything as the wife is nagging her husband to remember to TELL THEM HOW MANY TICKETS DAGNABIT!!
Tonight I swear I got that blonde guy from King Of The Hill that none of us understands yet we do...
"Yeah, I'll take blblblbl at blblblblb Septem blblblll Omaha blblblb free taxpay blblblbl. Four tickets please."
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