Monday Dare: I was raised by a pack of wolves

Every Monday, I’m picking from the List of Things to Do, Places to Go, Possible Acts that Help, and Possible Fun to Have. It’s a list I made before The Project started, and I’m still adding to it. If you have suggestions, please feel free to throw them my way. I’m calling the list my Monday Dares, as I get overwhelmed just looking at the words “challenge” or “goal.”

This week: Acquire phone skillz.

I’ve never worked in an office environment, which means I’ve been deprived of many glorious opportunities. I long for the chance to stand around a water cooler giving people the point-and-shoot + wink combo while recapping my weekend. I would give anything to be part of a Secret Santa gift exchange. If I’m lucky, I might get a bottle of Drakkar Noir, which I would then spray on all of my outgoing mail. These are all things that happen in a typical office, I’m assuming.

Not working in an office has also deprived me of the opportunity to cultivate my charming phone persona.

I called my friend, Becka, at her office a few weeks ago. I always feel like an asshole when I call someone during the workday. Do I keep it short and simple? Just a “hello” and the reason I called? Do I ask about their weekend? Do I go into detail about the left pinkie toe that is throbbing because I dropped a fucking mug on it? I don’t know.

Assistant: Hello, Becka’s office.

Me: Um…………………………………………………………………….Hi.

Assistant: Hi.

Me: Um. I’m calling for……uh………………………………………….

Assistant: Becka?

Me: YES! That’s her name. Can I, uh, leave her a message? My name is….wait…..it’s….fuck…..ELIZABETH. MY NAME IS ELIZABETH.

Assistant: Would you like for me to see if she’s available?

Me: Oh, like, talk to her? I guess. I mean, I…sure.

After Becka got on the phone, I blurted out, “God, I wasn’t even planning on talking to you right now.”

She was too nice to say, “Then why did you call me, asshole?” but I guess that’s why she gets to work in an office and I don’t. Because she has phone skillz.

I’m not even sure how I still have friends. I should probably resort to texting.

I sent an email to Becka’s assistant later that day. Something along the lines of “I’m sorry I was raised by a pack of wolves, and I have no life training.”

She responded back with a most gracious, “No problem!” It’s clear she has LOTS of life training.

I asked to tag along with Harv this week and answer his office phone so I could acquire some phone skillz. He didn’t think it was a good idea. Probably because he’s afraid I’ll upstage him. Or maybe because he wants to keep his job.

Are you awkward on the phone? Any other basic life skills you need to work on?

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I’m not even sure why I tried to act like a lady.

I have some good news, and I have some bad news. Let’s start with the bad news since it will probably lower your expectations, and then anything I say as the good news will just seem that much better. Bam! I’m a genius. I use that term loosely here.

A few times a year, I try to act like a lady. Last week was one of those times. I did an interview, and before I hopped on the call, I reminded myself over and over again: Don’t say the word shit. Don’t say the word shit. Don’t say the word shit. 

I sat on the edge of my chair, pinching my leg as a reminder to act like a lady. I’m happy to report that I did not say the word shit. Instead, I said fuck…numerous times.

Luckily, the writer, Tracey Lomrantz, was cool about it. Thanks, Tracey. And sorry I’m so fucked up.

So, now for the good news: I somehow managed to get my ghetto self onto the ever fabulous Glamour magazine’s website.

You can check out the interview here. 

And let’s remember, folks. I didn’t say the word shit.
image via blueq.com