Being Nice Doesn't Always Work

(Dialogue)

It was a brilliantly sunny day at the beginning of spring, one of the warmest of the budding season. I was in the tiny, galley-style kitchen in the back of my apartment, where, somehow, the natural light never seemed to reach. I quickly pulled sliced ham, mayo, mustard and cheese from the fridge, with the goal of making a sandwich to eat in the living room, where warm golden light was pouring through the windows.

Just as I was slathering mustard on a slice of bread, the phone rang. Absentmindedly, I answered the corded phone on the wall in the kitchen.

“Hello?” I already sounded annoyed. Whoever this was, they were delaying my escape from the dingy confines of my kitchen.

“Hello, is Ms. Rah-fuze there, please?” A young woman.

“It’s pronounced Ray-fuse. This is Amanda.” My annoyance grew - obviously, it was a telemarketer.

“Hi, I’m Denise and I’m calling on behalf of Aliant today. We’re just calling our current customers to let them know about some new products available to them.”

I smiled sardonically into the phone. I knew what was coming – only a few weeks before I had been making this same call, over and over again. I felt for Denise, and decided to be nice. Besides, if I was friendly maybe she would take my inevitable ‘no’ more easily. “How are you today, Denise?” I asked.

“Good, thank you.” I could hear her smiling on the other end. “And you?”

“Good, thanks. Just making some lunch.” I forced a more genuine smile into my words as I clamped the receiver between my ear and shoulder so I could return to constructing my sandwich.

“Oooh, anything good?” she asked, as though we were old friends.

“Nah, just a sandwich. But I can’t wait to go and eat it in the sun.” I prayed she would take the hint.

She didn’t.

“Oh, I know! Isn’t it a gorgeous today? I wish I could be out there enjoying it instead of inside. But, we all gotta pay the bills.” Her chuckle was like a shrug.

“Yeah, I know all about that, for sure,” I commiserated. Our conversation was actually pleasant, and I was even feeling less annoyed. Sure, my sandwich was progressing slower than I’d liked, but I was sure that once she finally got to her pitch, she would let me go without rebuttal.

I had held her off as long as I could and she threw her first pitch: “So, we have some newer call packages than the one you currently have. You can get all of our call features, including caller ID and call waiting, and it will only cost you about a dollar more a month. I’ll just go ahead and sign you up for that?” It was barely a question. The presumptuousness of this one statement thinly disguised as a request instantly killed all good will we had built together. ‘Be nice,” I reminded myself. ‘You know the pressure she’s under for quotas...’

“I would rather you didn’t,” I answered curtly. “I don’t have a caller ID phone, and I think call waiting is rude.”

“Oh, you’re sure?” Her tone of voice changed, from ‘best friend and confidante’ to ‘aggressive used-car salesman.’ “They can be really convenient, and at only twelve dollars more a year it’s a pretty good value. You could even just try them out for a month or two - “

“No, thank you,” I said firmly, my tone of voice changing, too, from ‘friend’ to ‘annoyed.’ I expected her to thank me and let me go.

She didn’t.

“Okay. But, oh!, I see you’re in a Killam building. You are one of the few people in Halifax currently eligible for Aliant TV.” The regained cheeriness in her voice was obviously forced. “Who’s your current cable provider?”

“I don’t have a cable provider. I have bunny-ears on top of my plasma.”

“Really?” she asked incredulously.

“Yeah.”

“Well, then you are in the perfect position to try out Aliant TV - ”

“I don’t have a cable provider because I don’t want cable.” My somewhat aggressive reply was directed down at my half-made sandwich.

“But Aliant TV offers - ”

“No, I am not interested.”

“But - ”

I lost what meagre patience I had been able to hold onto. My strategy of being nice had clearly backfired - she apparently had taken it as a sign of weakness. Whatever feeling of sorority I had had with her finished its transformation into anger with that one ‘but.’

“Are you at Minacs?” I demanded.

There was a palpable hesitation on the line. I knew that she was not allowed to reveal if she was.

“Perhaps,” she says, and my anger was paralleled in her voice.

“Well, perhaps I worked there up until a couple of weeks ago. Perhaps I was doing the exact same thing as you. And perhaps I know that you are not supposed to rebut me because I am a current customer. Perhaps Aliant doesn’t want to piss off their loyal customers.”

“Well, because you’re such a loyal customer - ” those two words dripping sarcasm - “we thought you’d be interested in some of our great offers.”

“You know what? I think - no, I’m sure - that when I move I will be ending my association with Aliant. Because of this call. I will be switching to Eastlink.” There was an angry tone of finality in my voice.

Apparently, she had no reply to my outburst, and she indignantly rattled off the standard call closing which I knew by rote. Thankful I was on the corded phone and not the cordless, I banged the receiver into the cradle just as she was thanking me for choosing Aliant.

With a sigh and a smile, I went back to my sandwich. Soon, I would be sitting in the sun.