The Lost and Found
A few days ago, I was running through the Lost and Found voicemails at work when I realized that people are morons. When you're leaving one of these messages, you have to keep in mind that only three things are necessary: clearly saying and spelling your name if it's difficult, a brief description of the item with anything that makes it unique or signifies it as yours, and a very slow, clear reading of your contact phone number. That's it. The end. Hang up and move on.
They have this pre-recorded message at the beginning of the voicemail, like all other voicemails, giving these instructions. Basically, you only need some sort of brain activity, however faint, to participate in this hotline process. The people who I got messages from this week? Total flatlines. Flaaaatlines.
I heard all about these stupid wallets, embroidered with flowers and beads or suede with gold snaps or leather with black trim and brown animal print. I got a list of contents in this woman's bag - key ring, lipstick, concealer, handcream sanitizer - Cocunut Cucumber scent. And then all the cards! "I lost a wallet with a Shaws card, a YMCA card, a Jurassic Mini Golf Course card, a Loser Membership card, do you have it?" The catch, of course, is that these morons leave fifty second messages, and forty-eight seconds of the message are spent giving this insane description crap and one point two seconds are spent speeding through the phone number, at this point mumbling. I love these people. Or how about the people that call and say, "Little Jimmy lost his baseball glove. Do you have it?" Umm, lady? I'm sitting at a desk looking at about fifty baseball gloves. Which one is his? "It's brown." Verrrrry helpful. Verrrrry helpful. Narrows it right down. My boss's personal favorite: "I lost a silver flip phone." Oh REALLY? So did about fifty other losers.
They have this pre-recorded message at the beginning of the voicemail, like all other voicemails, giving these instructions. Basically, you only need some sort of brain activity, however faint, to participate in this hotline process. The people who I got messages from this week? Total flatlines. Flaaaatlines.
I heard all about these stupid wallets, embroidered with flowers and beads or suede with gold snaps or leather with black trim and brown animal print. I got a list of contents in this woman's bag - key ring, lipstick, concealer, handcream sanitizer - Cocunut Cucumber scent. And then all the cards! "I lost a wallet with a Shaws card, a YMCA card, a Jurassic Mini Golf Course card, a Loser Membership card, do you have it?" The catch, of course, is that these morons leave fifty second messages, and forty-eight seconds of the message are spent giving this insane description crap and one point two seconds are spent speeding through the phone number, at this point mumbling. I love these people. Or how about the people that call and say, "Little Jimmy lost his baseball glove. Do you have it?" Umm, lady? I'm sitting at a desk looking at about fifty baseball gloves. Which one is his? "It's brown." Verrrrry helpful. Verrrrry helpful. Narrows it right down. My boss's personal favorite: "I lost a silver flip phone." Oh REALLY? So did about fifty other losers.
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