A matter of perspective

The other day I was sitting at a meeting when my cell-phone rang. Now, I don’t personally like meetings. They are things which people higher up in the corporate food chain like to do by the hour-fuls. However, no real work gets done at meetings. At best, work may get planned but nothing concrete ever came out of any meeting since the times of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table.

However, that is not the point. The point was my cell-phone started vibrating during the middle of the meeting which is not a happy state to be in. No matter how frivolous the discussion going in a meeting, people hate it when somebody’s phone rings. It’s almost like you have spoiled their private party in a vicious way. So, as soon as my phone rang, the whole room went quiet and as I clambered out of my chair, I could hear someone muttering under their breath.

I was trying to salvage the situation by disconnecting if only I could trace the number. Unfortunately, this call had originated from a number I knew nothing about and I had to answer it. Hurriedly exiting the room, I answered the call, “ Hello!”

“Hi sir…” a pretty female voice answered the phone. No strange pretty voices ever call me (apart from my girlfriend whose voice is, of course, not strange) and therefore, I was even more intrigued. This can’t go on for long though, I told myself, the meeting beckons.

“Sir, I am xxxx, (no, I don’t want to safeguard the confidentiality of the person, I just didn’t catch the name) and I am calling from Domino’s Pizza.”

I was right! No pretty voice ever calls me just like that.

My mind was trying to figure out possible reasons for her calling up. Did I forget to pay the delivery guy? Unlikely. Did I over-pay and they wanted to return the extra amount? Highly unlikely.

“Sir, did you order Domino’s pizza last Sunday from us?” she asked.

“Yes, I did”, I replied, still clueless.

“Sir, did you order Garlic toasties from us?” she continued.

“What is this? Some kind of 20Q? And that too, when I am in the middle of a meeting”, I wanted to say. Instead, I replied, “Yes !”

“Sir, did you like the Garlic toasties” she asked sheepishly.

“What!” I blurted out.

“Sir, we wanted your feedback on the Garlic toasties and how you liked them.”
I had had enough. So I replied (rather curtly) “Listen I am in the middle of a meeting here; so why don’t you call me sometime else and I will tell you!”

I said the last few words in a tone which said don’t-ever-try-calling-me-again.

“Ok, have a nice day sir” she said, sounding visibly (ok, audibly) distraught.

I disconnected and returned to my meeting.

On the ride back home in the evening, I was re-playing the afternoon’s incident through my mind. Even though it was a ridiculous call to get, I couldn’t help feeling for the girl on the other end. She was doing her job; trying to get one more data point for her feedback survey. It was a crappy job, no doubt. But her life would have been simpler had I told her that the garlic toasties were actually quite good.

My current job requires a lot of data collection and nothing gives me more pleasure these days than data that is easy available in the form I wanted it. Yet, I chose to refuse her the information she sought, dismissing it as outright ridiculous.

They say, “The wearer of the shoe knows best where the shoe bites” (or something similar to this; however that is not very important as long as you get the point).

Life is all about perspectives and I certainly didn’t have the right one that afternoon.