My war against the Telephone
I don't know precisely what it is, but I have a really strong fear of telephone conversations. Before I have to make a call, I need to write out a list of bullet points, or sometimes entire paragraphs of prose, just to order a pizza, or in today's case call the landlords and the gas Co. I suppose I have this crazy idea of the other person always being angry that i've called. Like Stephen Fry once put it on QI, it's like going into someone's office and hammering on their desk yelling "TALK TO ME TALK TO ME TALK TO ME". This is the same whether its someone i'm ordering takeaway from, who I fear will get aggrivated at me and refuse to deliver, someone who is contractually bound to help me out (this one's based off knowing a Call-Centre worker who always gave me horror stories of retards who didn't turn the switch on), or even automatic machines - this being the reason I can never top up my phone, like I think the automated voice will suddenly cut off and the operator recording it for some mallign purpose (probably gets off to the voices, the sick fuck) will cut in and yell "HURRY THE FUCK UP YOU TOOL!"
Today however I finally bucked up the courage to call the Landlords about the big shutdown. Both housemates were out, and this helped spur me on, actually becoming a mantra at one point - "they will be cross if you don't do it now, they will be cross if you don't do it now" as I sat at the dining room table in my fingerless gloves scrawling out "hello this is 8 Graham street, and its about our boiler...". Yeah, i'm a real rockstar, 'aint I?
The lady on the other end was understanding, and thankfully our major gripe (that they have no office hours or emergency contact on weekends........ except the one I just remembered and looked at right now ffffffffUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKK!) never came up. She directed me to ring the Boiler company and arrange a call-in. hoo boy. Well, having done it once I braved their call centre, to be met with an equally chirpy woman who sadly pointed out that there's no one in the area until tomorrow, but took my mobile number and told me someone would be in touch. Feeling infused with an unholy vigor, I went ahead and called the Landlords back to let them know, and the confidence must have worked because the naive fools actually promised to send round some space heaters, which will come in very handy since the unheated bathroom ought to be measured in Kelvin.
Of course this cycle of angst will continue the next time I have to order a pizza or some shit, but it's a start. Still, maybe next time I can find the security number promptly (even if this time it still wouldn't have gotten the boiler fixed any sooner). Geez, I haven't been guilty of such gaping, prolonged failure since I used to read Sore Thumbs and Menage a 3.
((Speaking of Webcomics, much love to the new E.A Poe Icon cropped from "Hark! A Vagrant" <3))
Today however I finally bucked up the courage to call the Landlords about the big shutdown. Both housemates were out, and this helped spur me on, actually becoming a mantra at one point - "they will be cross if you don't do it now, they will be cross if you don't do it now" as I sat at the dining room table in my fingerless gloves scrawling out "hello this is 8 Graham street, and its about our boiler...". Yeah, i'm a real rockstar, 'aint I?
The lady on the other end was understanding, and thankfully our major gripe (that they have no office hours or emergency contact on weekends........ except the one I just remembered and looked at right now ffffffffUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKK!) never came up. She directed me to ring the Boiler company and arrange a call-in. hoo boy. Well, having done it once I braved their call centre, to be met with an equally chirpy woman who sadly pointed out that there's no one in the area until tomorrow, but took my mobile number and told me someone would be in touch. Feeling infused with an unholy vigor, I went ahead and called the Landlords back to let them know, and the confidence must have worked because the naive fools actually promised to send round some space heaters, which will come in very handy since the unheated bathroom ought to be measured in Kelvin.
Of course this cycle of angst will continue the next time I have to order a pizza or some shit, but it's a start. Still, maybe next time I can find the security number promptly (even if this time it still wouldn't have gotten the boiler fixed any sooner). Geez, I haven't been guilty of such gaping, prolonged failure since I used to read Sore Thumbs and Menage a 3.
((Speaking of Webcomics, much love to the new E.A Poe Icon cropped from "Hark! A Vagrant" <3))