The Call Center

"I hate these fuckin' headsets."

The tangle of plastic and wire flew across the room and no one paid attention. A drawer slid open, there was the sound of rummaging around for pens and another computer monitor glowed to life. Digital tones came over a speaker, a button was punched when the call connected, and the conversation became one-sided for anyone in the room who cared to listen.

Most of the conversations in the room were one-sided.

"Can you tell me where it hurts?"

"Have you had a biopsy? No, that's where they take some tissue, maybe with a needle, or in the operating room."

"Yes, I realize you live in Ohio. No, ma'am. We don't have office hours on Saturday. I understand that your son has to work. Yes, ma'am. No, ma'am. Yes, ma'am. I'll try ma'am."

"We can arrange for a Plastic Surgery consult if you'd like. I'm not sure if they can address that at that time. I work for a different department."

"Shit! The coffee has mold growing in it!"

"Can I talk to your mom? OK, I'll hold." "Crap! I hate talking to kids" "...yes, chemotherapy. We'll talk about surgery after we see how he responds. I'm sorry. Take your time."

"Anyone want to go for coffee?"

"What the hell is wrong with her?"

"It's not like we haven't all had to do that before. It's part of our job. She didn't have to bite my head off."

"Who's going to the Christmas party?"

"Can you rate your pain on a scale of one to ten? Ten would be the worst pain you can possibly imagine."

"Wow, Brittany Spears still looks like shit."

"I want to get out of here early today."

"Have you had a biopsy? No, that's where they take some tissue, maybe with a needle, or in the operating room."

"Did someone say coffee?"

"Whose headset?"