Sometimes I have to call deadbeats, I mean, customers who are in arrears with their payments. It’s a shitty thing to do for a living but so is putting the key in the deadbolt every day. The calls are mainly to let them know that if they don’t cough up some cash soon shit is going to get real.
It’s sort of a useless adventure. I know they’re lying to me (if I were to believe our customers they are patient zero for every malady known to man and chimp. They all have an average hospital stay of between six and twelve months. I recently had a woman come in telling me she disconnected herself from a dialysis machine and had her children break her out of the hospital to stand in front of me to plead her case. I’m not a medical professional but that seems a little off the mark) they know I know they’re lying to me but it’s a dance we must take.
I call a woman and a man answers, “Is Sue there?”
“Yeah.” He pauses. I can hear that he’s not making any movement to get her for me.
“Can I speak to her?”
“She’s busy right now sucking my dick. Can she call you back later?”
“That’s all right.” I respond. “I’ll hold. I’ve heard your quick.”