Here I am. Settled in, waiting patiently with a mug of freshly brewed dark coffee cradled in my hand, my oversized sweater draped around my shoulder, staring at my screen. I look over my shoulder, Antonia, colleague and bosom gossip mate, is already at it; scowling at her monitor, her hands waving frantically as she gesticulates and attempts to explain to the voice over the headset. I sigh. Patiently I wait for the music to fade away and the prompt tone over my headset ‘you have a call’.
Before the voiceover speaks I can already predict the trend of the call, the outcome. First the lamentations of another irate customer would come through; then my sincerest apologies would follow and then retrieve customer’s information and verify their data while the query is resolved and finally the promises that the problems would not reoccur promptly end the call.
Amidst the ranting of a man with a heavy Yoruba accent, dropping his H’s carelessly, I dared to dream beyond these cold tiled floors, beyond the tinted windows that made the skies seem cloudy all day. I indulged myself in reckless dreams of snagging the commonwealth and the Caines, and ah yes, the Pulitzer of course! As raindrops beat pitter-patter against the windowpane, I heard thunderous applause and flashing bulbs; newspaper interviews and a slot on primetime television.
I wondered, imagined somewhere where I would be goofy happy going to everyday. Where would I wake up with a tired smile on my face and still look forward to the long hours ahead? I thought of the written word, of black and white stills, of sharing my thoughts and maybe making a difference in small ways. Even if I did not earn millions and drive a fancy car (as cheesy and cliché as that may sound) I would still me at peace with me.
So I decided to drop my headset in a loud thud and curse Mr. Lagbaja, calling him an hass, no an hidiot. And I would walk out of the doors and beneath the gray September skies, the cold drops drenching me. I would do a little dance, splash in the muddy puddles. I laughed.
‘Mr Lagbaja I apologize for any inconveniences, we guarantee you it will not occur again. Thank you for choosing us, have a wonderful day…’
Not today. Tomorrow. Naley. Yes Tomorrow.
I am certain of this. Just as I am certain that a few moments from now the music would fade and the voice would prompt me “you have a call”. Then lamentations would come through; followed by the apologies would and then retrieve customer’s information and verify their data while the query is resolved and finally come the promises that the problems would not reoccur.