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When this is the first phone call you've taken in the day, you know you should just fake sick and go home. Ugh. Damn work ethic keeping me here. Keep in mind, it was about 8:30 a.m. so it's not like they were trying to call me under the wire of publishing or anything.
Me-of course.
SC-Wow. Just. Wow.
Me: "Newsroom."
SC: "Yes, is this the newsroom?"
Me: JESUS. "Yes, it is."
SC: "I have a question."
Me: "Okay."
SC: "......"
Me: ...normally, I would sit here until you spoke but there's a bag of Doritoes with my name on it after I get rid of you, so..."Sir?"
SC: "Yes?"
Me: "...you had a question?"
SC: "Yes. I have something I'd like to add to today's paper."
At this point, I must interject that since I discovered my Asperger's, I have begun thinking about what people say. Rather than taking what they say automatically at face value, I remind myself to stop and think, and try to figure out what they might actually be meaning. I make the mistake of using my behavioral correctors here, and assume he must mean that he has something to tell me about one of the stories in the paper, like a side to it we hadn't heard. Like when you have "something to add" to a discussion.
Me: "Okay, sir, what is it regarding?"
SC: "It's a classified ad."
Me: *momentarily knocked off moorings* "Umm...a classifed ad?"
SC: "Yes. I'd like to add one to today's paper."
Me: *thought train completely derailed* "Do...you mean you have a correction?"
SC: "No, no. I have an ad I need to get in today's paper."
Okay, two things here. First of all, we've already established this is the newsroom. We don't handle the classifieds. That's what the classified department is for. Second of all...the papers were printed about seven hours ago. All but the furtherest reaches of our area have received their papers already. Several coffee-stained editions have already made their way into the trash somewhere. I mean...my God.
Me: "Um...today's paper?"
SC: "Yes. Can you help me with that?"
Me: *trying desperately* "You don't mean tomorrow's paper, do you? You need something for-,"
SC: "No, no, tomorrow is too late. I need it in today."
Me: "...you need to get an ad into today's paper...which has already been printed and distributed."
SC: "Yes! Can you help me or not??"
Me: "............hold on, I'll transfer you." *does so, hits head on desk
feels no pain*
I swear to God...some days I think the asteroid can't get here fast enough...I'll have to go downstairs to classifieds later and see which of the ladies' hair has gone grey...and offer to buy her lunch.
Only eight hours to go...*sigh*
Me-of course.
SC-Wow. Just. Wow.
Me: "Newsroom."
SC: "Yes, is this the newsroom?"
Me: JESUS. "Yes, it is."
SC: "I have a question."
Me: "Okay."
SC: "......"
Me: ...normally, I would sit here until you spoke but there's a bag of Doritoes with my name on it after I get rid of you, so..."Sir?"
SC: "Yes?"
Me: "...you had a question?"
SC: "Yes. I have something I'd like to add to today's paper."
At this point, I must interject that since I discovered my Asperger's, I have begun thinking about what people say. Rather than taking what they say automatically at face value, I remind myself to stop and think, and try to figure out what they might actually be meaning. I make the mistake of using my behavioral correctors here, and assume he must mean that he has something to tell me about one of the stories in the paper, like a side to it we hadn't heard. Like when you have "something to add" to a discussion.
Me: "Okay, sir, what is it regarding?"
SC: "It's a classified ad."
Me: *momentarily knocked off moorings* "Umm...a classifed ad?"
SC: "Yes. I'd like to add one to today's paper."
Me: *thought train completely derailed* "Do...you mean you have a correction?"
SC: "No, no. I have an ad I need to get in today's paper."
Okay, two things here. First of all, we've already established this is the newsroom. We don't handle the classifieds. That's what the classified department is for. Second of all...the papers were printed about seven hours ago. All but the furtherest reaches of our area have received their papers already. Several coffee-stained editions have already made their way into the trash somewhere. I mean...my God.
Me: "Um...today's paper?"
SC: "Yes. Can you help me with that?"
Me: *trying desperately* "You don't mean tomorrow's paper, do you? You need something for-,"
SC: "No, no, tomorrow is too late. I need it in today."
Me: "...you need to get an ad into today's paper...which has already been printed and distributed."
SC: "Yes! Can you help me or not??"
Me: "............hold on, I'll transfer you." *does so, hits head on desk
feels no pain*I swear to God...some days I think the asteroid can't get here fast enough...I'll have to go downstairs to classifieds later and see which of the ladies' hair has gone grey...and offer to buy her lunch.
Only eight hours to go...*sigh*
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