As Suzy stammered, my ears perked up. For distraction I called out, Hey Kathy, put on another pot of coffee. Suzy spoke again. The fact is, gouging my own eyes out with a ketchup bottle would not have distracted me. A linguistic calamity was eminent.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up, then it ran from the room. I knew where Suzy was headed. Her speech was like watching a car accident. It all moved in slow motion. Every instinct in me said tear the phone from her hand before it’s too late. But she had to learn to properly communicate with customers. Please Lord, I begged, don’t let her say it. Then it happened. Suzy uttered the words, We’ll mam, I ain’t fer sures on that.
Across America, English professors collectively wept. My mind locked. How could she have said it again? She had been with our company four months. Still, there was hope. Okay, Lord, you’re pretty funny, I sneered. Seriously, could her next words please be, If you would not mind holding for one moment, I will find out the answer for you. Ha! No such luck.
The gods hate me. After an awkward silence (while the caller and I shared an embolism), Suzy...
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