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    Talk To The Click

    | Clermont-Ferrand, France |

    (Having moved, I got a new phone number which previously belonged to a retail store in Clermont-Ferrand. I had already had a few calls for that store, so I knew the drill.)

    Woman: “Hello, is this ***? I would like to know until when you are open.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, you dialed a wrong number. *** doesn’t have this number anymore. I’m pretty sure they closed.”

    Woman: “That’s not my problem! You didn’t answer my question. When do they close?”

    Me: “No, seriously, you’re calling me at home here. I’m sure that if you look in the yellow pa–”

    Woman: “Now look here, young man! I don’t have all day. Do you live in Clermont-Ferrand?”

    Me: “Well, actually I do, but–”

    Woman: “THEN TELL ME WHEN *** CLOSES! GO LOOK IT UP OR SOMETHING!”

    Me: “Seriously?”

    Woman: *calmly* “Yes.”

    Me: “I’m hanging up now.”

    Woman: “WHAT? DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE TALKING TO–”

    Me: *click*

    Someone Needs Sensitivity Training

    | Ringoes, NJ, USA |

    (I’m at home, on Christmas Day with my family, eating dinner. Our number is similar to a floral shop in our town, so we’re constantly getting calls from customers.)

    Me: “Hello?”

    Caller: “WHERE ARE MY FLOWERS?! I ORDERED MY FLOWERS FOR NOON ON CHRISTMAS DAY AND I DON’T HAVE THEM YET! WHY CAN’T YOU PEOPLE EVER DELIVER MY FLOWERS RIGHT?! LAST YEAR, I…”

    (I predicted a whole novel’s worth of stories, so I figured I would cut in…)

    Me: “Sir! This isn’t the floral shop, you have the wrong number. This is *my number* and you just interrupted our Christmas dinner.”

    Caller: “WELL, F*** YOUR CHRISTMAS DINNER!” *click*

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