Speaking on the phone with customers always puts me in a light trance.
I interface with the public under rather limited parameters; so there are certain phrases which are necessarily and unthinkingly repeated; and over the years, those phrases have become chants which trigger a state of neural quiescence.
Yesterday, in the middle of a phone call, while my fore~brain was on autopilot doing its routine tasks, I had the sudden and distinct impression that a third~person narrator had raised its head in the back of my head.
And, after a few seconds of observation, the narrator said,
She's turning into her mother.
I think I'll name it Tacitus.
~ ~ ~
You see, I'd been told by Boss to slow down the rip~roaring speed at which I speak over the phone. A schism of dissonance was created between mindless habit and conscious effort; and that schism gave birth to two voices. The voice in which I spoke to clients ~
that very. same. slow. soothing. singsong. speaking. voice. with which. my mum. used. to read. me. to sleep.
~ and Tacitus.
~ ~ ~
Just so we're clear, I don't hear voices, and Tacitus is a literary device.
I don't know yet if Tacitus will develop into a recurring character of any kind.
But I hope it will be fun to play with.
Posted by edgar at June 4, 2003 10:09 AM