Cold Balls.

2 Comments

Everywhere (Psychemagik Edit) – Fleetwood Mac

First week of the new year. High hopes. Great expectations. My plan is all about “getting stuff done, as opposed to being a busy fool.” And like all loose plans with no light shining the way, this first week has gone swimmingly well. Ughatha. Week started with me attempting to get new  endeavours off the ground. Which involved the wonderful world of cold calls. Cold calls are some balls. Some balls. Not a fan. But need to be done. Reason I’m not a fan, is that I’m not phoning trying to get these folk to buy a subscription to GQ magazine. Or to change their phone line to Verizon. Nay. I’m basically calling folk, selling me, myself or something I made or currently making. Selling myself like a whure.

Insane Being Sane

The most striking thing I’ve realised when cold calling people, is that it would be ridiculously easy to be the weirdest person in the entire world. Ridiculously easy. Person on the other end is not sure what you want. Instantly suspicious. Back foot. Regrets taking the call. Who cares if what you’re offering is actually of great use and benefit to them. You are a foreign sounding freak who is taking up their time. Now you’re straight off battling the fact that they think you’re a weirdo. Working overtime to prove in a short time that you’re not insane. Insanely scrambling out sane sounding phrases that will calm their nerves. Now they’re using their soothing voice. Verbally patting you on the head while they push you out the door. You try harder to prove your sanity. Trust me. Just listen! I’m not weird. What I’m proposing is actually a win-win! Just unblock your ears and stop fake smiling down the phone at me!

At this point it’s a lost cause. Now is when I thought of how easy it would be to just be as weird as they think you already are. Might as well give them a story to tell whoever when they go home from work. Weirdest guy ever rang work today… Tut. Too easy to be weird. Far harder staying sane. Drop your pants in public… You’re a weirdo. It’s that easy. Look at the right person in the right way… What’s that psycho looking at!? Again, too easy. A look?! In order to be seen as sane, people get up everyday and go to jobs they don’t like, over and over, for years and years… But at least they’re seen as sane? Pretty insane. To be true.

Hey Judy

On the upside, this week is now done. Mistakes made. Funk them. Plough on. Plan in place. Instead of trying to do 23 things on my to-do list at once, time to start picking them off one at a time. Why I didn’t think of this sooner, is beyond me. Oblivious to the obvious? Speaking of weird and cold calls, this morning was highly odd. This morning, randumb hunted me down in my sleep. Actually woke me up. Private number calling me. Dodged the first two. Voicemail. Half asleep half listened to them. Weird message. Confused. Sleep on. Hour later, same again. Second time around I answered. Not what I was expecting. An automated message asking me…

Do you accept a free call from Santa Barbara County Jail? An inmate is trying to reach you… First thought, freak call?! What is a freak call?!! Oh Jesus… No, you ape, free call… Second thought: Hang up! What the funk did you do last night?! Quickly followed by… Calm down, you weren’t even out. Jails don’t call people up to tell them they did something wrong. Then… This sounds dodge, hang up. Finally… Sense kicks in, take the funking call! God only knows who it could be… Click 1 to accept… Click… Hello? Hey, it’s Judy. Judy? Judy. Ju-who? Judy! I’m in jail. Judy. You know… Well actually I don’t know. Judy who now? I don’t have long, this is my one phone call… I actually have no clue what is going on… Wait – is this – Where are you from? This is me. From Ireland. And yourself, Judy the Inmate?

Conjugal!

Judy then asks me if these digits are my number. Yes. You dialed that number you just called out. Now she’s confused. I’m more confused. She misdialed me as her only phone call? Lucky you, says I. What, says she. Look, says I, I’m not sure what you want me to do. Well, says she, I only get one call, can you stay on for it? Is this… could it be… a cold call… ?! From an inmate in jail!? Oh but of course Judy! Insanity on! Try out some new stand-up jokes on Judy the Inmate. Sporadic laughs. Mostly at my accent I imagine. Not sure if she understood the majority of my gibber. Ask her if she reads. Yes. Recommends she checks out Randumb while she’s in jail. If she can. Pass the time. So what’s it you’re in for? Money laundering? Mur… Her time is up. Must go. No worries. Fun way to start the day. Odd enough. Whirlwind friendship with the inmate. Perhaps I could do a book tour of the jails. Could be mighty. Something for the to-do list. Conjugal on. I joke. And with that, this mess of a week is now done. Cold balls off. Focus on!

I’m Still Standing – Elton John

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Cold Balls.

  1. Remember the episode from Seinfeld when George had a relationship with an inmate that was REALLY great until she got parole? Maybe that call to you was fate? Love works in mysterious ways…

    • Haha, I thought exactly of that! I’ll let you know how the conjugal goes. She sounded delightfully. And slightly raspy.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s