When I was a teenager I had a cyst on my vocal cords and though the cyst is long gone my voice was left all husky, smoky and low. It’s not so apparent in real life, but something about phone technology enhances those qualities. At least it used to — I hadn’t had anyone mention it in years.
When I was young and worked in Spokane, Washington in a bowling alley, it was my job to call the league members and remind them of their bowling night. Because of my voice, my phone calls were very popular with the men and quite detested by the woman. I actually had men come to the back office to meet me, and women come to the back office to threaten me for calling their men. The men always left disappointed. The women always left relieved. They were anticipating Marilyn Monroe and found Jane Average.
Last week I was asked to make phone calls for the church and get RSVP’s for our luncheon this afternoon. Without a thought, I left many messages on many answering machines. Today as I was helping clear the tables after the dinner one of the men said to me, “I really liked your phone message. I don’t suppose I could get you to call me again sometime?”
I looked up at his wife in shock. She nodded her head and said, “He played it at least four times before I erased it.”
Okay then. I want off the phone committee.