The Cone of Silence

(October 17, 2005)

The other day I came into the office with Wheat Thins, paper towels and a half-gallon of milk. We usually get quarts for the small office fridge, but all the quart-size non-fat milks at Brooks were expired. "I got milk," I said to Andy on my way past his desk, "I had to get a half-gallon though, the small ones were all expired." He said something grunt-ish in response. He went over to get some lunch at Stop & Shop later that day. Came back. "Oh you got milk too?" he says, holding the milk he'd just bought.

Fucking hell.

Is it me or are people increasingly not fucking listening to each other at all anymore? Joe gets distracted sometimes and, because I feel like people are ignoring me all day, everywhere I go, my guy doesn't get a break; when he doesn't answer me I snap at him. A whole Monday of having to repeat myself three times every time I open my mouth, and be polite about it, means because I don't snap at strangers so I snap when I get home.

My reaction wouldn't be so immediate if Joe's lack of attention was the FIRST time in a day that I was speaking, apparently, under a cone of silence. But it's not the first time. That's probably the fiftieth time that day someone ignored me. It's rampant. Every service rep on the phone seems to ask me by rote what city I'm calling from but then zone out when I answer, because a minute later there they are, making me repeat "Boston" again.

Yesterday I saw this happen to a guy in CVS, where I was standing next in line with my stash of rainy-Sunday stuff. He walked up to the clerk with HIS stash of rainy-Sunday stuff and said, perfectly clearly, "Are any of these things less expensive with the CVS card?"

"CVS card..." the clerk mumbled without looking at him, "is when...you...if anything is on sale..." and trailed off with a vague hand gesture towards the whole of the store behind him. Well, whether or not that can arguably be called an answer to his question is moot; it wasn't even a sentence. "Yes," he said patiently, ""are any of these things less expensive with the CVS card? I just don't have mine on me." After thinking a minute she finally said, "I don't know." Then, after ringing up a few of his items, "Do you want a CVS card?"

Oh for the love of fuck. "HE HAS ONE!" I wanted to scream. "HE JUST FORGOT IT! HE JUST WANTS TO KNOW IF HE COULD BE SAVING TEN CENTS ON HIS PUMPKIN MALLOWS, GODDAMMIT!"

This is almost guaranteed to happen at Sami's on Harvard Ave. Whether it's Sami himself or one of his helpers, invariably it's the same dance. I swear to god it's like they're messing with me.

"What can I get you?" is their question. The ideal question, good clerk, as here I stand at your counter before your menu items and your stacks of pre-cut lunch meats and falafel. My answer is short, clear and very very low maintenance. This isn't *Melanie Griffith in When Harry Met Sally. This is simple. (*Update: February 22, 2006: I just saw this. I can't believe I said Melanie Griffith. If you knew how many times I've seen When Harry Met Sally...I have it on VHS and DVD. I can quote whole segments of it. I know it's Meg Ryan. This is HILARIOUS that I would screw it up!)

"Turkey and American cheese roll-up, please? With lettuce, tomato and mayo."

"Onions?"

"No thank you."

"What kind of bread?"

"A roll-up?"

"Cheese?"

"...yes...American?"

"Lettuce and tomato?"

(sigh) "Yes."

"Mayo?"

Why do I order at all. I should just walk in and have them play me in Twenty Questions, since they're not listening to my order and proceed to ask me ten questions anyway.

At work, forget about it. We ship with a freight forwarder. They come between four and four-thirty every time. Every, every time. And yet, "What time are they coming?" and "When does this need to be ready to ship?"

When I'm having a hellish week and it's around about Wednesday, this not-listening trend makes me feel like I'm speaking in some kind of gibberish. "Um, between four and four-thirty? So have it ready by four."

Along about Thursday I'm yelling the thing they're asking me to repeat. "FOUR. THIR.TY."

Along about Friday I'm shopping for machine guns.