I took a call this morning at the box office from a hotel concierge, around 9.30 am.
"What time," she asked, "are your phones turned on?"
"9 am," I replied.
She laughed her little concierge laugh. "I'm sorry, I though they were turned on at 10."
I wanted to ask why she had called if she thought no one would answer the phone.
No, actually, I wanted to ask why she had wasted valuable time that I could have spent making fun of a fellow box office employee, the muscular Barbra- and Madonna-loving bartender I chatted with the night before, or whatever member of management was out of the room at the moment; time that I had to waste talking to a woman who had dialed a call with no expectation of talking to anyone.
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