My wife and I were making love when the phone rang, someone calling from the symphony. They always call at the worst times, but the rep was very friendly and when I told her the situation, she apologized and offered to call back another time.
“Now’s fine,” I told her. “My wife's eyes are closed, dreaming of a co-worker, so it’s like I'm not even here.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” said the symphony rep. “That’s why we're calling to see if you'd like to become a member of our special friends donor club. It entitles you to enjoy all of our concerts and performances throughout the calendar year.”
“Sounds good,” I said, “but with my hours being cut back and our son's kindergarten tuition, we're strapped.”
“I understand completely,” she replied, “so we're making a one-time offer to all ticketholders to join our entry level club, for which you'll receive a Friends of the symphony guardian level tote bag.”
“And how much is that?”
“Just $9.99 a month, the same price as four cups of coffee.”
“Problem is,” I said, “my wife's on top of me right now, and my wallet's across the room.”
“No problem,” she said. “I can wait.”
A minute went by and the rep said, “Your wife sure sounds like she's enjoying herself. Are you Jeff?"
“No,” I said, “That's her co-worker.”
“Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
I told her not to worry and she said, “You know, I could talk dirty to you, might help things along.”
I said, “Do you guys do that sort of thing?”
“We do whatever we can for the symphony. Why when I think of a Beethoven concerto, those violin bows gliding back and forth, the percussions pounding and the woodwinds blowing, faster and faster, harder and harder, rising into a crescendo, oh God, oh God. (Heavy breathing on the other end.)
“Hello. Hello, are you still there?”
“Oh yes. I'm sorry I...I'm so embarrassed.”
“Are you kidding? That was the best sex we've had in years. My wife's even smiling. Hold on, she's handing me the credit card right now. Are you ready?”
I read the number and said, “That was great, and what was your name.”
There was a long pause and she said, “You don't remember my name?”
“Well, no, you see, I-“
“Ugh,” she said. “You think you can just shove money in my face and I'll just go away, right?”
“Isn't that why you called?”
“Gotcha!” she laughed. I laughed. My wife laughed.
“You had me going, there,” I said.
“One of the perks of the job. My name's Sally and it's been a pleasure talking to you, and if you wouldn't mind, holding the line for a quick customer satisfaction survey.”
“We'd do anything for you Sally.”
“Thanks. Love you guys.”
“Love you too. Bye-bye.”