Confessions of a Call Center Gal - By Lisa Lim Page 0,61

Kars and I watch a lot of VH-1’s I Love the Eighties, and we are huge fans of eighties bands with kooky names. Names like A-Ha, Duran Duran, Pet Shop Boys and of course Wham!

We know all of the words to this song, and so does Ingeborg. Together, we sway drunkenly, belting out the chorus. Mika saunters over, clutching his sides. Surprisingly, he joins in on the chorus; and soon all four of us are singing and slurring sentimentally off key.

The Gods must be smiling down upon us. There are no calls in queue. Nada.

“Okay everyone.” Kars claps her hands. “Time to exchange prezzies!”

This year, all four of us agreed to do a Secret Santa. But it is no secret since we just couldn’t keep our mouths shut. Mika is my Secret Santa, I’m Karsynn’s Secret Santa, Kars is Ingeborg’s Secret Santa. And so, by natural deduction, Ingeborg is Mika’s Secret Santa.

“I want to go first.” Without wasting any time, Karsynn rips into the wrapping paper. “Aww,” she gushes. “A basil seed kit for my Aerogarden.”

“Look,” I point out, “It touts seven types of basil: Napolitano basil, Italian basil, Thai basil, Globe basil, French basil, Lemon basil and Red Rubin basil.”

“Maddy, this is the best gift ever!” Kars hugs me tightly. After we peel apart, she turns to Ingeborg. “You go next.”

Kars and I brainstormed on Ingeborg’s gift all weekend, and I’ll have to admit, what we came up with is simply brilliant.

And I even chipped in on it.

Ingeborg rips open the envelope. “A hundred dollar gift zertivicate to um, Glamour Shots?” She casts us a dubious glance.

Kars rushes to explain, “It is from me and Maddy. We think you need to get some professional photos taken so you can hook up with a modeling agency. It can be a start to your portfolio!”

“Ingeborg, you’re wasting your beauty here,” I admonish. “You should be gracing the covers of magazines.”

Self-effacingly, Ingeborg waves off the compliment.

I barrel on, “Now check this out. Your Glamour Shot session includes a personal consultation with a professional makeup artist and hair stylist to help you look your best for your portraits.”

Gosh. I really am selling it. Guess I do have it in me to sell as long as I believe in what I’m selling.

Kars prances about in a happy clamor. “Ingeborg, don’t forget us when you’re gracing the covers of Maxim. You could even be the face of Victoria’s Secret,” she says with glowing rapture.

“Um, thanks girls.” Ingeborg smiles at us sweetly, then jerks her head at Mika. “Your zurn now.”

“Here I go.” He slits open the envelope. “A gift card to iTunes! Thanks Ingeborg.” He smiles warmly, and Ingeborg smiles back, equally warmly.

I am pleased to report that their relationship has weathered the transition to friendship pretty seamlessly. Mika has even become friends with Archibald aka Sean Connery.

“I’m next,” I squeal with delight. After all that waiting, I am bursting with anticipation.

Mika leans forward in his chair. “I think you’ll love it.”

Without wasting another second, I tear into the paper with gusto. “Oh. It’s a CD. Bruce Springsteen’s Greatest Hits,” I say in a strangled voice, then catching myself, I quickly paste a smile on my face. “It’s awesome!” I add with false cheer.

Mika’s green eyes are dancing. “I knew you’d love it. You have Springsteen on your ring tone and I assume you already have him on your iPod. But being that you’re an old fashioned sort of gal, I thought surely you’d appreciate him on CD.”

I amp up the volume of my fake smile. “Thanks!” I say stiffly.

Moments later, after all the wrapping paper has been stuffed into the trash can, I glance up at the display board. Ah, I am delighted to see that there are still no calls in queue. And for the rest of the night, not a single call comes through. Snow is falling outside and we are having a whale of a time inside, chatting, chilling, grooving to Christmas tunes, munching on microwave popcorn and guzzling more vodka. And I come to the satisfying realization that Christmas at a call center is not so bad after all.

In fact, I feel so warm and fuzzy inside that I decide tonight is the night that I will tell Mika how I feel about him. I have a small hunch that he likes me. Over the past couple weeks, he’s been coming over to my place for ‘tutoring’ sessions, but all we do is read and make goo-goo eyes at each