How far we come

When my office phone rings, it's generally one of six things, in order of preference:
• Laurie, looking to have lunch;
• John (my boss), with a question;
• The control room, with a problem;
• Viewers, convinced we're putting the word "STOP" on their TV screen;
• Vendor wannabes, trying to sell toner cartridges;
• Overseas call centers, renewing my free subscription.
So you see, I answer the phone with some reluctance.

Ten minutes ago I was greeted by the magazine call center, remarkably enough a pleasant woman who speaks clear English and gets right to the point. I answered her several questions and made it to the final query:

"For verification purposes, what is the first letter of the city in which you were born?"

"S," I replied, then adding, "as in Syracuse."

A brief pause, then the quiet observation: "You don't go far, do you?"

After I stopped laughing she apologized, that she had no idea what made her say such a thing. She seemed mightily relieved when I replied that it was easily the best subscription renewal call I've ever gotten.

Good enough to bump them up the scale, edging out vendor wannabes.