Thursday, August 10, 2006

Phone Solicitor

Norris was tiring of immersing her hands in water. Talk about sub urbanity she thought. As if in answer, the phone rang, “Hi, I ‘m calling for the children’s hospital” said a young woman’s voice. Norris was let down; it was not a real call from someone good.
“Oboy” she was good at getting rid of telephone solicitors, but did not exactly enjoy it.
The telephone voice giggled at Norris’s dolorous reply and Norris asked “Do you want money?” Just before the girl could resume her memorized speech- “no”
“Well, do you want children?” Norris was thinking ahead here, “Because I don’t have either”.
“No,” the girl replied.
“Well, what is it then?”
“I want to know if you want the paper.” By now the pre written speech was totally out the window and Norris thought why do I want a paper from the children’s Hospital? They put out a paper? Talk about non-sequitur, sheesh, I didn’t mean for this to get out of hand.
“When you get the paper delivered, one dollar goes to the hospital…” the girl seemed to be veering back toward her previous spiel.
“Wait, I pay the hospital?”
“No, you pay the carrier but...”
“The hospital gets the money and I get the paper?” This is not too awful Norris thinks, and then thinks of having her Sunday mornings shattered by the rude blatting of the front doorbell, and having to face some obnoxious adolescent while still in her pajamas. “No, thanks, I’m not here a lot.” (Subject closed)
“Okay,” the phone voice registers, ( lost another one.)
Norris reluctantly returns to submergence.

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