I’m So… Happy

At work we have an intercom system which serves a variety of purposes for various people.  For myself it is seen as a last resort, if I go looking for you in the typical places I think you’ll be hiding, one of the labs, your office etc. and I can’t find you, then I’ll break down and page you.  And it has been pointed out to me that unbeknownst to me I have developed a “phone voice” when I page.  My pages usually go something along the lines of “**insert name here** call 217 please **name** 217” but I somehow manage to say “two…one…seven” with the voice of an angel.  Others, however, are not angelic with their paging and not nearly so discriminating in their usage.

This cycle of abuse has been spiraling downwards for years. It began with a particular fellow employee who spend approximately 70% of her time attempting to make it look like she’s extremely busy and important despite the fact that she is naturally often neither of these things.  She often begins pages with a giggle as if to show the world, or at least our buildings 40 or so inhabitants how jovial life is in the lab.  She pages repeatedly over and over again and for two people at a time, which I have never managed to wrap my mind around since only one at a time can respond.  She once paged beginning with a straining grunt which transitioned into what seemed like a plea for help, I believe that day half the building was fairly certain she was trapped under a murderous piece of lab equipment. Unfortunately, we were not so lucky and the pages continues year later.

By far my favorite pager of all time is the CEO of our company. His pages,  unlike most,  rarely  indicate a location or a number at which he wishes to me called. They are barked out in his New York accent and usually consist of “**insert name here** would yah cawl me please!” But my favorite are the ones in which he says “**insert name here** CAWL YOUR AAWFFICE!” which in essence means “I’m looking for you where you’re suppose to be and you’re not here fucker”

The latest trend in paging is to use is as a platform for expressing your deepest darkest depression. One of my co-workers sounds like she’s about as down in the dumps as you can get every time she pages, and then fine minutes later when you see her in the hall she’s as happy as ever. I have reached the conclusion that while my phone voice is made of honey and butterfly kisses, hers is made up of ground up Zoloft and Cymbalta tablets. Today at work paging reached a new low in which two members of the warehouse support staff paged doing what I can only assume was their best Droopy Dog impressions (see video below). The first page sounded as if it was in slow motion and the pager was lost in a fog of sadness. The second page actually lasted a full minute and was 50% yawn, “**insert name here** please call 166….**creepy silence…. YAAAAAWN**…. 166.”

It wouldn’t bother me that people paged so much if at least they were quick and to the point and not ridiculous. We have all been paged at work and are therefore trained like Pavlov’s Dog’s by the introductory “Beep, BEEP!” to pause conversation and any tasks at hand to wait to hear which name follows.  We have even all begun to have auditory hallucinations when it comes to our names. “Was that for me?” “No John, they called for Sally”

Which should I do tomorrow? “CAWL ME!” or “I’m so….. Happy” in my best Droopy Dog voice?

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