Let me just start by saying that the Irony Factor is at an all time high today, as I am a notoriously bad speller. Yet, I contend that there are far worse spellers than myself. My phone number proves it.
My office line rings at least twice a week with someone wanting to get a divorce. Sometimes the people are crying. Sometimes they are so mad, they are nearly shouting. Sometimes they are just reluctant to say anything at all – we just sit in silence for a moment until they finally get the courage up to speak with an attorney.
Regardless of the caller, I say the same thing every time:
Today a lady called me not once, not twice, but three times. The first time she sobbed for a moment, then said: "I need to leave my husband. He is sleeping with our five-year-old's ballet teacher."
Oh, snap.
Before I can open my mouth to tell her that she's not talking to an attorney's office, she continues to pour out more sordid details. (She'd caught Daddy Dearest and Dirty Dancer doing the horizontal mambo.) When the lady took a breath, I poured out my spill. I said it so fast that she didn't fully understand. All she heard was, "I'm sorry I can't help you."
"OH, NO! Did he call you first? Please, please, I need help."
Jesus, lady.
Finally I explain to her that she has the wrong phone number. Then I encourage to her to try 713-DIVORCE. I even spelled it out for her. Finally she hung up. Two seconds later the phone rang. It was her again.
"Um, hi. I need to talk to someone about getting a divorce," she said.
"Sorry, wrong number again."
"Oh, well are you married? Do you know a good divorce lawyer?" she asked.
I informed her that I was happily married and hadn't had a use for such a practitioner of the law. She apologized for the call, then hung up.
I think you know where this is going.
Two seconds later. The. Phone. Rings. I have caller ID so I know it's her.
"Hello?" I said, dispensing with the usual greeting where I state my name and wish them a good morning.
"Yes, I need to speak with an attorney about getting a divorce," she said.
"I'm sorry ma'am, but there is no one here that can help you with that," I said exasperated.
"Oh," she said. "I'll just try back after lunch!"
Then she hung up.
My god, woman! Are you daft?
Do you have any idea how bad I want to tell her that she's so stupid she doesn't deserve a divorce?!? I want to scream at her that I'm glad her husband fucked the dance teacher. Then I want to make a contribution to HIS legal fund.
I know she's just upset, bad speller. I keep telling myself she's not at her best right now, but the more sinister part of me wants to have her mail me a $525 check – to cover the $25 consultation fee and $500 dumbass tax.
My office line rings at least twice a week with someone wanting to get a divorce. Sometimes the people are crying. Sometimes they are so mad, they are nearly shouting. Sometimes they are just reluctant to say anything at all – we just sit in silence for a moment until they finally get the courage up to speak with an attorney.
Regardless of the caller, I say the same thing every time:
I am sorry about your situation, but I can't help you. You have called a university -- not a law office. My phone number is a digit off from the number you want. You want 713-DIVORCE. You dialed 713-DIVORSE. Try 713-DIVORCE and you'll get the help you are looking for.I try really hard to be nice. These people are generally at their wits end. Most of them are embarrassed to be calling a divorce lawyer to begin with. No one wants to admit that their marriage is failing. It's not exactly your high point, ya know -- fight over who gets the time-share or how to split the holidays with the kids. My heart goes out to these people. So I try to be a nice as possible when I have to tell them that not only is their marriage shitty, but so is their spelling.
Today a lady called me not once, not twice, but three times. The first time she sobbed for a moment, then said: "I need to leave my husband. He is sleeping with our five-year-old's ballet teacher."
Oh, snap.
Before I can open my mouth to tell her that she's not talking to an attorney's office, she continues to pour out more sordid details. (She'd caught Daddy Dearest and Dirty Dancer doing the horizontal mambo.) When the lady took a breath, I poured out my spill. I said it so fast that she didn't fully understand. All she heard was, "I'm sorry I can't help you."
"OH, NO! Did he call you first? Please, please, I need help."
Jesus, lady.
Finally I explain to her that she has the wrong phone number. Then I encourage to her to try 713-DIVORCE. I even spelled it out for her. Finally she hung up. Two seconds later the phone rang. It was her again.
"Um, hi. I need to talk to someone about getting a divorce," she said.
"Sorry, wrong number again."
"Oh, well are you married? Do you know a good divorce lawyer?" she asked.
I informed her that I was happily married and hadn't had a use for such a practitioner of the law. She apologized for the call, then hung up.
I think you know where this is going.
Two seconds later. The. Phone. Rings. I have caller ID so I know it's her.
"Hello?" I said, dispensing with the usual greeting where I state my name and wish them a good morning.
"Yes, I need to speak with an attorney about getting a divorce," she said.
"I'm sorry ma'am, but there is no one here that can help you with that," I said exasperated.
"Oh," she said. "I'll just try back after lunch!"
Then she hung up.
My god, woman! Are you daft?
Do you have any idea how bad I want to tell her that she's so stupid she doesn't deserve a divorce?!? I want to scream at her that I'm glad her husband fucked the dance teacher. Then I want to make a contribution to HIS legal fund.
I know she's just upset, bad speller. I keep telling myself she's not at her best right now, but the more sinister part of me wants to have her mail me a $525 check – to cover the $25 consultation fee and $500 dumbass tax.
1 comments:
For those of you who doubt, her phone number really is 713-DIVORSE.
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