We tried to do an international wire transfer of funds last week. It got messed up because we screwed up the account number. Now, some guy in Singapore is $1,500 richer and can't figure out why someone in America so blessed him. Needless to say, we are trying to fix it.
Today a guy called me from a call center in India to confirm that we have asked our bank, one of the world's largest, to fix the problem. My first reaction was, India, how nice, we have gotten one step closer to solving the problem in Singapore. But, of course, that is not the case. In fact, we are no closer. And, for awhile there, I thought we were backsliding.
I had been expecting this call. However, I didn't expect that our large American bank would outsource this kind of task. From the first "hello," visions of Mitt Romney, that outsourcer in chief of the political ads, swam through my foggy head. Hours later, I am still cursing him.
It is my habit to put the phone to my left ear. Unfortunately, along with the paralysis in the left side of my face due to Bell's Palsy, the hearing in my left ear has been kind of off these days - not that my hearing in either ear has been up to par, lately. I tried to fix the problem by switching to the right side. [This just begs for present tense, doesn't it? Switching...] I try to tell the guy I'm having trouble understanding him, but my mouth doesn't work too good, either. "I'm going to give the phfffone to my wiffffe," I say.
Amy takes the phone. When she is done she tells me she had trouble hearing, too. "Those Indian guys talk too softly," she says. We both curse Romney.
I try to imagine what life is like for that guy in India. I have never been there and I have no plans to go. "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel," an English movie that takes place in India is playing at the Little Art, this week. I have read that it contains scenes from a call center. I tell Amy we have to go to the movies tonight.