I'm late.

I'm watching valuable seconds slowly tick by. Fresh snow has fallen overnight and the roads are nasty in this part of the world. When I brake, the car makes a sound I am told is the ABS kicking in. To me, it sounds like the car is having a small seizure.

Tick

Tick

There are few people as anal about being on time as me. And this is a pretty big client. The client is a clock-watcher, and my mind's eye takes me into their office where they are sitting behind a vast, desk glaring at a clock. Watching the seconds.

Tick

TICK.

Crap. I AM going to be late. Slipping smoothly out of denial -- I realize that I need to make a phone call and alert my client that I am, in fact, about to do that thing that business people don't do to other business people. I am late.

One eye on the road and the multitude of recently-licensed-and-probably-still-pissed-out-of-their-minds drivers around me, I seek the cell phone I cunningly tossed on the passenger seat.

I press 4-1-1 and wait for a human to come on line.

Tick

TICK

A recorded zombie -- with no sympathy whatsoever for the stress I am under -- comes online and informs me that, in an effort to serve me better, the Phone Company has institiuted an automated phone system
                                                              TICK
                                                                     TICK
                                                                             that is voice activated. Instructions follow, telling me how to speak (most useful under the circumstances...), and FINALLY a prompt asking me to say the name of the town, city, or village I am looking for.

I say the name through lips that are braced tight to keep the shout inside.

"I'm sorry. I didn't understand that," comes the flat artificially sympathetic voice. "Please repeat it."

I do.

"Got it that time," smiles the zombie operator. "Are you looking for a Business or a Personal phone number?"

I realize that the phone system probably won't recognize the words that spring to my lips and speak: "Business."
                                            Tick
                                                  FREAKING TICK

"So you are seeking a Business number? If this is correct, please say "Yes." If this is not correct, please say "No.""Since the option I have in mind wasn't one of the choices, I say "Yes."

"Good," says the voice -- which has been SO helpful in improving the quality of my phone service thus far -- "Now what is the name of the..................business.................you seek?"

I say it. And wait. I can hear a soft clicking on the phone line."Sorry. I didn't understand that. Please say the name of the...........business.......you seek again."

I say it again, trying to keep my voice even. I am thinking that the machine can probably sense fear or rage...or whatever the hell it is.

Who do you yell at?

Where does the rage go?

Someone in the sporty little truck cuts me off, apparenly unfamiliar with the function of the skinny lever sticking out of their steering column. I fight off the urge to leap out of the car and beat the living snot out of them.
 
If I do, I will have to start the phone maze all over again. That wouldn't do. Not at all. No sir. My phone beeps. This means that there is someone wanting to talk to me. This means pressing the "Send" button and praying to sweet Jesus that my call to the Phone Zombie won't be lost.

I bite my lip and finally decide to throw caution to the wind and answer the call.
It's my client. Advising me he will be a little late because he has been delayed in traffic.

I tell him that there's no problem.

I'll wait.

**sigh**