My professional life features an unending stream of phone conversations with slack-jawed mouth-gaspers who are incapable of logical, interesting or relevant communication.
That proved true today when I called to verify information in a press release. Of course, the number was wrong. Instead I had reached a knockoff crisis hotline.
I chose to forge ahead, thinking maybe it actually was a correct number and that someone at the hotline had given it as a contact number on purpose.
The conversation went a little something like this:
Him: "Hello, Crisis Hotline."
Me: "Hi, I'm calling from the Tampa Tribune to verify information in a press release."
Him: "Well (extended pregnant pause while millions of neural synapses fail to connect) I can pray for you."