Mirror Magazine

Mirror Magazine

101 excuses
By Dilini Algama
Receptionists, secretaries and bosses, beware, I’m onto your game. My good name will probably be remembered by all mankind for years to come for the services I render here.

Recently I tried to contact ‘The Boss’ of an organization. ‘The Receptionist’ answered the phone. She greeted me in a tone that implied she was rudely interrupted while counting the hairs on her head. I told her my name, who it was that I wanted to speak to and where I was from.

And she asked, “Why?” The force with which she spat out this solitary word reminded me of the night when our neighbour’s son decided to let his father know of his intention to quit school and join a circus. I was taken aback, but I gathered my wits in time to mutter something which sounded like “Pbshquabrestuuxzz-mplimn.”

Eventually ‘The Receptionist’ said: “Can you hold on?”
I said, “sure”. Big mistake. Well, it’s not my fault really. What she didn’t ask was whether I’d still have held if I’d known that I was going to listen to the tune of “Happy Birthday to you” for eight minutes. Considering that this tune is 12 seconds long, I listened to it forty times.

By then anyone who hadn’t possessed my guts, determination and courage would have hung up in despair. But I hung on.
Eventually ‘The Secretary’ came on line. She asked me the same questions and many more. Tragedy struck again! She may not have heard my desperate pleas for she put me on hold. Ten minutes later she came back on line to inform me that ‘The Boss’ was at a meeting and could I please call back in fifteen minutes?

Fifteen minutes later, after the same routine she tells me the same thing. This cycle continued for one and a half hours. She must’ve got bored because for the next two hours the line was engaged. Three hours later I tried again, ‘The Boss’ was still at the meeting.

But here’s the funniest thing - the next day I rang him up and guess what? He was at a meeting. It’s my father’s fault really. I inherited his crooked nose but not his common sense. Otherwise I would’ve seen through this sham after the first call.

You see, “He is at a meeting” is an adopted phrase. It means “He doesn’t want to talk to you. Don’t even bother to leave a message, he won’t ring you back.”

But instead of feeling sorry for myself, I felt sorry for ‘The Secretary’ who went on saying, “He’s at a meeting,” in well rehearsed diction. It’s pathetic that she couldn’t come up with some other lie. It’s pathetic that ‘The Boss’ couldn’t give her a list of excuses to recite while he played games on his mobile phone in his office.

So this is how I’m going to make my fortune. I’m going to sell the excuses I’ve made up to secretaries who suffer from meetimania. I offer you a few samples. At any rate they are better than, “He’s at a meeting.”

* I am sorry, he didn’t come this morning, he’s locked himself in his car and can’t get out.

* I’m sorry, but someone has put glue on his doorknob and the phone wire’s not long enough to reach the door.

* I regret to say that he is being interviewed by the CID over a case of kangaroos roaming in Yala.

* I’m sorry, it’s his turn to bring the baby to work today and right now he’s changing the nappy.

*Sorry, he popped in a blob of glue into his mouth under the illusion that it was toffee and the company dentist is on leave today.

* Sorry, it’s the clean-up day at work and he is removing chewing-gum stuck under the tables and chairs.

The “He’s at a meeting” may have saved the boss’ hide from his wife in the 1960s, but one has to change with the times. So, I’m saving you a lot of time and money when I advise you not to ring back when they say, “He’s at a meeting.”

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