Dialing for Names

I was on the phone with a woman named Tina. She sold medical equipment. She was trying to get me to buy something I didn’t need, but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so I chatted with her for a while, just being friendly. It was nice. Even though we’d never met, I felt like I knew her. I’m not sure how it was possible, but it had been a long time since I’d gotten along with someone so well. I couldn’t imagine having a problem with her, ever, not even if we were working together on some difficult project, or sharing a studio apartment, or raising a kid. I could picture it so clearly, I half believed it had already happened. I felt bad knowing I’d forget her name soon, so I tried to think of a way to keep it fresh in my mind. I wrote it across the top of my notebook, and then I started doodling with it, turning the first letter into a caricature of a person, then turning the whole name into a person. I drew 10 Tinas, each one more ridiculous than the last. I couldn’t help but laugh, and I had to cover my mouth to muffle it so she wouldn’t hear. I was so focused on the game, I forgot to listen to what she was saying. She asked me a question, and I didn’t know how to answer. I was going to say I’d call her back when I had more information, but I didn’t know her name. I couldn’t look at my notebook, because I was holding the phone with both hands and trying not to laugh out loud. I couldn’t admit the truth, so I told her I had a bad connection and hung up. I wish I could say that was the first time I’d done that, but it was my go-to move. I’d done it at least 50 times last year alone. It was the entire reason I was working at home, alone. My old boss said I was the worst customer service representative they’d ever had. He wasn’t wrong. I’d get so caught up in my doodles, I’d forget what the customer had said, and have to ask them to repeat themselves. I’d get so caught up in the game, I’d forget what the customer said, and sometimes I’d forget to write down their name. It was a problem I’d had for a long time, but no one seemed to have a solution. My parents had sent me to therapy as a child. My teachers had punished me with detentions and suspensions. As an adult, I’d gotten used to being fired. I thought I’d finally found a way around the problem by working alone, but now, staring at my ridiculous drawings of Tina, I realized my solution hadn’t solved anything. I had to find a way to get her name, but I couldn’t call her back and admit the truth. I sighed and rubbed my temples. It was a silly problem, but it was a big problem. I thought about Tina, and how nice she’d been, and how much I’d liked her. It wasn’t her fault I had a flaw, and I couldn’t let her suffer for it. So I called her back, admitted the truth, and told her I wasn’t cut out for this job. I told her I was sorry, and that I’d always remember her. It wasn’t a good solution, but it was better than nothing. I hoped she’d forget about me, but I could never forget about her. She’d been the nicest person I’d met in a long time. I wondered what would have happened if I’d met her in a different life. I wondered if she’d want to go out with me if I didn’t get in the way of myself all the time. I wondered if she had the same flaw, and if she’d understand me on a deep level. I’d never know. All I had was the memory of our nice phone call, and my drawing of 10 Tinas. I decided to frame them as a portrait of the kindest person I’d ever met, and put them on my desk as a reminder. I’d never forget her name, and I’d always cherish my memory of her. Even though she’d never call me back, she’d always be in my heart. * * *<br><br>All the notes for this story have been compressed into the forthcoming novel, The Remembered City.