Det ar inte manga dagar kvar nu. Jag aker pa lordag, JS redan imorgon.
Telefonica var och hamtade modemet i mandags, sa nu surfar jag pa nan okand grannes tradlosa natverk. Det gor mig lite nervos, kanns inte stabilt.
Vadret slog om haromdagen och det har plotsligt blivit host. 30 grader nan gang under pask helgen och nu kanske 15. Sa det kanns som om det ar tid att aka. Arstidsskiftning. Dags att mota varen i Europa.
Har njuit sa av att spendera de har manaderna i Sao Paulo. Det har varit toppen. Gor garna om det. Och visst kanner jag mig lite melakolisk just nu. Hade garna stannat en manad till. Samtidigt ser jag fram emot att spendera nagra veckor i London. Pa sondag kommer jag att vara hemma i S:s lagenhet. Det kanns tryggt.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Telephone manners x3
Brassarna ar ganska daliga pa telefonetikett. De verkar ocksa ha valdiga problem att sla telefonnummer korrekt. I genomsnitt har vi tre felrigningar per dag. De flesta samtal foljer mallen:
B: -Halla?
X: -Vem talar jag med?" (utstott som en grymtning)
B: -Vem vill ni tala med? (talmodigt)
X: -Vem talar jag med?" (grymtning)
B: -Vem vill ni tala med? (mindre talmodigt)
X: -Daniel/lakarmottagningen/tandlakarmottagningen/PR firman/Flavia/whomever
B: -Ni har tyvarr fel nummer
X: -Vilket nummer ar det har?
B: -Vilket nummer forsoker ni na?
X: sager ett nummer dar oftast de tva sista siffrorna ar fel
B: -Nej, det ar inte det har numret
X: -Ar inte det har... (upprepar samma felaktiga nummer igen)
B: -Nej, det ar inte det har numret
X: *klick*
Jag lyssnar av min engelska mobilsvarare da och da. I slutet pa forra veckan hade jag fatt foljande meddelande: "Hi Basilka, it's Richard X. Can you please give me a call on 0207....." Eh? Jag kanner ingen Richard med det efternamnet men pa det familara sattet han anvande mitt fornamn skulle man kunna tro att vi var riktigt bundis. Han sa sitt telefonnummer sa snabbt att jag var tvungen att lyssna pa meddelandet fem ganger for att fa det ratt och han lamnade ingen som helst ledtrad til vart han ringer ifran eller hans arende. Headhunter, tanker jag och svar tyst. J-a inkompetenta, sjalupptagna, imbecila headhunters.
Sa i mandags ringde jag upp honom och hamnade mycket riktigt hos nan headhunting firma. Blev kopplad till Richard.
B: -Hi this is Basilika X. You left a message on my mobile last week.
R: -Eh? What was it in regards to?
B: -I have honestly no idea, you just told me to give you a call.
R: -Oh, well, eh, I have received your CV.
B: -I doubt it
R: -So you are not looking for a job?
B: -No.
R: -Oh, ok. Thanks for calling me back.
B: -No problem.
Senare under dagen ringer det pa min Skype som jag har uppgett som ett alternativt telefonnummer pa mitt mobilsvar. Jag kanner igen numret. Det ar Richard X.
B: -Basilika speaking
R: -Oh hi Basilika, it's Richard X (igen utan att uppge vilken firma han ringer fran)
B: -Hello
R: -I left a message on your mobile last week...
B: -Yes I know, we spoke this morning.
R: -Did we?
B: -Yes we did.
Sen foljer ett langre samtal dar Richard forsoker placera mig, kommer tillslut ihag vart samtal, konstaterar att jag inte letade efter ett jobb och borjar sen forsoka salja in ett London jobb till mig. Han ar entragen. Jag ar ointresserad. Da borjar han fraga mig om jag inte kanner nan som skulle kunna passa in pa positionen han forsoker tillsatta (dvs jag hjalps honom att utfora hans jobb!). Headhunters och fastighetsmaklare star ungefar lika lagt pa min varderingsskala. Sarskilt headhunters & fastighetsmaklare i London.
Och sa slutligen ett e-mail som jag fick forra veckan fran en kompis i Atlanta:
Hello everyone, please send me your phone numbers when you get a moment.
My phone was stolen out of my unlocked car in front of my house on Wed. night by a woman named Elaine.
How do I know this, you may ask?
Well, when I discovered the phone missing, I called my number. A man named Cowboy answered. His real name probably wasn’t “Cowboy”, but as he said, “People call me Cowboy”.
It seems that Cowboy bought my phone from Elaine for $10, or at least lent her $10 with my phone as collateral. (Incidentally, I believe $10 is the going per-rock rate for crack cocaine in this area). In my 5 minute conversation with Cowboy, I learned the following:
He lives on Hutchinson St. (a really bad part of Kirkwood).
He is blind. In his words, “On account ‘a I got shot in the head ‘bout a year ago.”
He runs a pressure washing business. (I guess you have to pick him up, drive him to your house, and point him in the direction of the driveway stain? Or perhaps he has a vinyl-siding-mold-smelling-nose dog?)
Cowboy seemed to be a nice guy though. He said he knows what its like to lose a phone and he would give it back to me; and I don’t even have to pay him the $10 back.
On a side note, after I talked to Cowboy my first reaction was to call Atlanta’s finest. I got transferred to a detective and explained the situation – stating that a law had been broken, my phone had been stolen, I know who has it, and where they are. The detective responded with “Why don’t you just just deactivate it and get a new one, why go through all the hassle?”
If anyone needs any pressure washing, Cowboy’s business line is 678-xxx-xxxx.
B: -Halla?
X: -Vem talar jag med?" (utstott som en grymtning)
B: -Vem vill ni tala med? (talmodigt)
X: -Vem talar jag med?" (grymtning)
B: -Vem vill ni tala med? (mindre talmodigt)
X: -Daniel/lakarmottagningen/tandlakarmottagningen/PR firman/Flavia/whomever
B: -Ni har tyvarr fel nummer
X: -Vilket nummer ar det har?
B: -Vilket nummer forsoker ni na?
X: sager ett nummer dar oftast de tva sista siffrorna ar fel
B: -Nej, det ar inte det har numret
X: -Ar inte det har... (upprepar samma felaktiga nummer igen)
B: -Nej, det ar inte det har numret
X: *klick*
Jag lyssnar av min engelska mobilsvarare da och da. I slutet pa forra veckan hade jag fatt foljande meddelande: "Hi Basilka, it's Richard X. Can you please give me a call on 0207....." Eh? Jag kanner ingen Richard med det efternamnet men pa det familara sattet han anvande mitt fornamn skulle man kunna tro att vi var riktigt bundis. Han sa sitt telefonnummer sa snabbt att jag var tvungen att lyssna pa meddelandet fem ganger for att fa det ratt och han lamnade ingen som helst ledtrad til vart han ringer ifran eller hans arende. Headhunter, tanker jag och svar tyst. J-a inkompetenta, sjalupptagna, imbecila headhunters.
Sa i mandags ringde jag upp honom och hamnade mycket riktigt hos nan headhunting firma. Blev kopplad till Richard.
B: -Hi this is Basilika X. You left a message on my mobile last week.
R: -Eh? What was it in regards to?
B: -I have honestly no idea, you just told me to give you a call.
R: -Oh, well, eh, I have received your CV.
B: -I doubt it
R: -So you are not looking for a job?
B: -No.
R: -Oh, ok. Thanks for calling me back.
B: -No problem.
Senare under dagen ringer det pa min Skype som jag har uppgett som ett alternativt telefonnummer pa mitt mobilsvar. Jag kanner igen numret. Det ar Richard X.
B: -Basilika speaking
R: -Oh hi Basilika, it's Richard X (igen utan att uppge vilken firma han ringer fran)
B: -Hello
R: -I left a message on your mobile last week...
B: -Yes I know, we spoke this morning.
R: -Did we?
B: -Yes we did.
Sen foljer ett langre samtal dar Richard forsoker placera mig, kommer tillslut ihag vart samtal, konstaterar att jag inte letade efter ett jobb och borjar sen forsoka salja in ett London jobb till mig. Han ar entragen. Jag ar ointresserad. Da borjar han fraga mig om jag inte kanner nan som skulle kunna passa in pa positionen han forsoker tillsatta (dvs jag hjalps honom att utfora hans jobb!). Headhunters och fastighetsmaklare star ungefar lika lagt pa min varderingsskala. Sarskilt headhunters & fastighetsmaklare i London.
Och sa slutligen ett e-mail som jag fick forra veckan fran en kompis i Atlanta:
Hello everyone, please send me your phone numbers when you get a moment.
My phone was stolen out of my unlocked car in front of my house on Wed. night by a woman named Elaine.
How do I know this, you may ask?
Well, when I discovered the phone missing, I called my number. A man named Cowboy answered. His real name probably wasn’t “Cowboy”, but as he said, “People call me Cowboy”.
It seems that Cowboy bought my phone from Elaine for $10, or at least lent her $10 with my phone as collateral. (Incidentally, I believe $10 is the going per-rock rate for crack cocaine in this area). In my 5 minute conversation with Cowboy, I learned the following:
He lives on Hutchinson St. (a really bad part of Kirkwood).
He is blind. In his words, “On account ‘a I got shot in the head ‘bout a year ago.”
He runs a pressure washing business. (I guess you have to pick him up, drive him to your house, and point him in the direction of the driveway stain? Or perhaps he has a vinyl-siding-mold-smelling-nose dog?)
Cowboy seemed to be a nice guy though. He said he knows what its like to lose a phone and he would give it back to me; and I don’t even have to pay him the $10 back.
On a side note, after I talked to Cowboy my first reaction was to call Atlanta’s finest. I got transferred to a detective and explained the situation – stating that a law had been broken, my phone had been stolen, I know who has it, and where they are. The detective responded with “Why don’t you just just deactivate it and get a new one, why go through all the hassle?”
If anyone needs any pressure washing, Cowboy’s business line is 678-xxx-xxxx.
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