A Short Story on the Website of |
Frank Incensed
“Franklin, honey, aren’t you sure you don’t want me to—“
Veronica was cut off by a single gesture from her frustrated husband.
“We pay four-hundred dollars a year for this.
I’m not going to let them take our money just because we’re too lazy
to make a phone call.”
Franklin hated when she looked at him like that—like he was a ten
year-old boy refusing to go to bed when it was obvious he was tired.
He knew she was right. Veronica
was always right. He looked at the
phone receiver, nearly dwarfed in his massive hands, and suppressed the desire
to crush it.
“Well,” said Veronica, sitting beside him on the edge of the bed,
“you keep trying to get through to someone and I’ll be in the kitchen. Remember that we have to be at the Shelleys’ house at
seven-thirty. That gives me just
barely enough time to make the casserole and get dressed.” She patted him lovingly on the shoulder.
“And remember, be polite. Use
your indoor and not your outdoor growl.”
Franklin was about to make a snippy comeback when he thought he heard a
voice issuing from the phone.
“Hello? Hello?” he
always hated sounding desperate when he made this call.
“Thank you for holding. Your
patience is greatly appreciated. A
representative will be with you shortly.”
The mechanical voice droned on, but Franklin had already taken the phone
from his ear and let his body sag forward, his head nearly touching his knees.
“Tell me again,” he said to his beautiful and patient wife, “why it
is that we decided to move to the suburbs?
What was wrong with the nice little village and all the people we
knew?”
“Do you mean the nice people who threatened to burn down our house once
a week with torches?” Franklin
was grateful that Veronica hid her sarcasm better this time than she usually
did. “I was happy there.
Granted, the castle was a tad drafty, but it was home.
You were the one who insisted on living someplace with a better internet
connection.”
“I had to have a faster connection so that I could telecommute.
You know I had to stop going into the office!”
He gazed at her with a pained expression.
“It’s a little embarrassing when your employees keep use you as a
coat stand or hat rack.”
“Stop being such a big baby!” Veronica
stood, shaking her head in dismay. “That
was one time. It was the Christmas
party and, if case you’ve forgotten, you’re the one who spiked the punch.
I’m going into the kitchen; you sit here and remember you’re a
gentleman.” She turned and began
walking out of the room.
“Actually,” said Franklin, a weak smile playing across his tired
face, “I’m several gentlemen, in a matter of speaking.”
Unfortunately, his joke was played to an empty room.
Franklin lowered his head again and gave the phone his most menacing
expression.
“Hello?” called a
searching voice from the phone in his hand.
“Hello?”
“Thank you for calling Prometheus BioTech, this is Operator 80301797.
How may I help you?”
“Great! Glad to finally
hear a human voice.”
“How may I help you sir?” Franklin
quickly caught on that Operator 80301797 was not he chatty sort.
“My name is Franklin Steinmetz, and I’m calling about a replacement
battery that I ordered two weeks ago.”
“Do you have the order number?”
“Yes,” Franklin grabbed a piece of paper from the nightstand.
“It is 1818.”
“Yes,” said the woman, “I see your order.
This is technical support. Since
the item has been placed on order, I need to transfer you to customer service.
One moment please.”
“B-B-But,” Franklin stammered, however the instrumental theme from Hill
Street Blues was already playing in the background.
Franklin was startled when a random spark sizzled and leapt from one of
the two copper bolts protruding from his neck.
“Hello? Thank you for
calling Prometheus BioTech, this is Operator 02011851.
How may I assist you?”
Franklin gave the woman his name and the order number.
“Yes, I do see that order, Mr. Steinmetz. You
are seeking a replacement for our 3000 volt micro-battery.
I also see that you are fully under warranty.”
There was a pause at the other end of the line.
“Have you not received an e-mail from us, Mr. Steinmetz, confirming the
order?”
“Yes,” replied Franklin, “but the order was placed two weeks ago
and it was supposed to be sent to me by Overnight Delivery.”
“One moment please.” A
low growl escaped Franklin’s lips, but he quickly clamped his hand over his
mouth to stifle the sound. The
woman came back on the line. “I’m
afraid that the item you requested is on back order at the moment.”
Franklin tightened his grip on the phone.
He could hear small sounds of plastic giving way under pressure.
“It wasn’t on back order when I ordered it.” Franklin kept his
voice as even as polite as possible. He
wished Veronica were here, she would be proud.
“Sir, I do not know what to tell you.
My computer shows that the item will not be available to ship for another
three weeks.”
Three weeks. Three weeks!
Franklin finally started losing it.
Franklin let loose with a growl of fury that caused two glasses on a
nearby table to begin to shake where they stood.
“Sir,” came the operator again, “there’s no need to use language
like that. I am sorry for the
confusion. We, at Prometheus
BioTech, pride ourselves on customer service.
What can I do to make you happy?”
“Get the part here!” Franklin
was forgetting his promise to Veronica. “I
want the part NOW! I need the part
NOW!” The two glasses had just
settled back down when the force of his words sent them spinning off the table
and onto the floor.
“One moment please.” The
other end of the line was silent for only a few seconds this time.
“Thank you for your business, Mr. Steinmetz.”
It was a man’s voice this time. “My
name is Sparky Edison, and I am a manager.”
“Can you get my part sent out?”
Great, Franklin thought, someone who can get something done.
“I’m afraid there’s nothing that we can do at the moment. Perhaps we could pay the cost of shipping the item for
you?”
The call abruptly ended with a thud and a crash.
Veronica raced in to see the cause of the noise.
The phone was deeply embedded in the wall beside the door and the
nightstand was only a pile of wooden shards.
She rushed to the bed and sat beside her husband.
“Will you finally let me help you now?”
As annoyed as Veronica was, it had been her night stand after all, she
tried to be as soothing as possible.
Red in the face with anger, small electrical charges pulsing from his
bolts at random, Franklin said nothing. After
a moment however, he nodded his head in agreement and in defeat.
Veronica put her hand in his and led him from the bed to a chair in front
of their bedroom window. After
making sure he was seated, Veronica raised the window as high as it would go.
“Maybe the fresh air will do us both some good.”
She kissed her husband’s forehead, proximity to his random electrical
charges caused her hair to begin frizzing,.
“I’ll be back in just a moment, dear.”
Franklin was tired. He was
frustrated, angry, and so very tired. He
closed his eyes and tried to find his happy place.
Somewhere outside he could hear the sound of a vehicle starting up.
The sound of the car’s engine grew increasingly loud, but Franklin was
oblivious to anything but his happy place.
“Are you still doing okay?” Franklin
could barely hear his wife’s voice over the sound of an idling engine.
Franklin only nodded. “All
right,” said Veronica. “Remember
this is going to sting a bit.”
With that, Veronica Steinmetz, with an oven mitt on each hand, clamped
two heavy cables to the bolts in her husband’s neck.
It was not the first time she had had to jump her husband, and it would
not be the last. |
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