Customer Service

Talking to her was a painful exercise - an extreme sport made of self-control and pure, unadulterated panic. The muscles in my face would ache after a minute of holding that friendly smile.

She can smell weakness, I am sure of it.

Her words come fast and increase in speed and volume every time I try to get a word in edgewise. I have to rush in and hold open the tiny space for my words to get through. I prop it open desperately, as I try to focus on both not being crushed and what I should be saying. I expect the brake to release on this elevator at any minute... taking my arm or the tip of my shoe with it.

I breathe, and pretend she's talking to someone else. I take comfort in the irony that none of this is about me. Even if it's Alanis' kind of irony. I'm just the messenger she's hoping to shoot.

I wait until the barrage stops, and she realizes she's about to lose my interest and goodwill completely. I take a deep breath and reset my smile.

"We appreciate your feedback...", I begin...