On the Phone With a Guy


Even when I am truly sick (and in this case I truly am) I always clamp one of my nostrils shut because I feel like my normal voice already sounds so nasal that this amped up version is the only way to sell it. One finger on my nose, the phone in my other hand, I say, “Hi, this is Matt Prins calling in sick.”

“Matt… Prins?” The pause in there means he’s looking for my name on a sheet of paper with a hundred other mail carriers.   It’s not Karen, the usual staffing person, it’s a guy whose voice I don’t recognize. “What route?”

“Route 112.”

“Ah yep. Matt… Prins, Taking an emergency personal day?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Do you think you’ll be back tomorrow?” They have to ask this for some reason. And every time they do I give them the same answer,” “I think so… I mean… I hope so.”

And then they guy gives a fake laugh and I do too.

“Ok. Thanks for calling.”

It’s really easy.

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