I’m taking this week off to re-charge. Here’s today’s Memoir re-run.
It begins as a notion in the afternoon.
I’m deskbound at a call center, listening to irate and distraught insurance policy holders and informing them of their limited rights under the settlement of a class action lawsuit for $11 an hour. I have a 70 page script of legalese before me, and not one page bridges the gap between the answers that exist and the answers they want. I feel like a monster and want to visit every last caller and kick puppies in their presence, for all the good I’m doing them. 200 calls in queue throughout my floor. No let-up.
The Globe sits on my desk. I scan the box scores from last night, the news and notes, the predicted starters for tonight.
I step out of the air-conditioned nightmare into blissful east coast summer humidity. Gonna be a beautiful night, the kind you want to…
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