I’m this close to unplugging my phone. This close to unplugging it, untangling all these wires and hurling it right out of the window. I bet I could nail the shot into the skip from the window, if I didn’t actually need this phone for things that are important. Like…uh…I’ll think of something. I have to, otherwise it’s going out the window and I’ll watch with morbid glee as it shatters on the pavement. The skip is too good for this monstrous machine.
I don’t deal with Melbourne’s tree pruning problems. I’m not even entirely sure our office is supposed to, either, but then upper management are basically ghosts when we need to ask them about this kind of thing. You call, the phone rings and rings (that phone again!!) and it’s like yelling into a canyon. Lots of echoes. Promises of call-backs that never materialise. Frustrating, to say the least, especially when you have a very nice lady from the eastern suburbs asking if someone can come and prune her tree. I had to look up a real company just to help her out (she was one of the sweet old lady types that you just feel compelled to help, because they’re from an era where people learned their manners). It’s probably not what management were after, but if they had more of a presence than vanishing morning fog and actually bothered to communicate once in awhile, then we wouldn’t be having this problem.
Funny thing is that I’m the only one getting all the tree removal calls. I asked Mabel at the desk and she seemed confused about the whole thing, and all calls usually go through her. I didn’t even know my phone had an outside number until today, but it apparently does, and I’m not the go-to guy for anyone who needs some quality arborist in Melbourne. Perfect, just my area of expertise. Guess I’ll resume trying to wring an answer out of someone as to what I should do about these calls.