Why Don’t They

            Last evening I received a call from a pollster. I wasn’t feeling well with a sore throat and back ache. My granddaughter Hannah was diagnosed as having strep throat and I baby sat last Wednesday for her. She wasn’t herself, looking sick around the eyes and complaining of stomach cramps as well. Pedialyte, yogurt, and ginger ale became her fare for the day. Several days later, I have the sore throat.

            So, when I answered the call the guy said it would be a short opinion poll on the elections. I thought that I would give him a few moments. I wanted to see if they wanted information on who I planned on voting as president. He started out with “how sure was I about voting?” When I said I’d voted in every election while I wasn’t in the Navy. He started ,“Is that very likely, likely not likely,” and all of the shades between. Then, “What party? My age?” Only one question about the presidential candidates, then he moved on asking about Schuster and Halverson.

            I haven’t heard much about either and told him so. He persisted, by asking question after question. “What did I know about Schuster?” I said only the propaganda that he sends on his flyers, but please continue to send them. I have a wood burner and it helps to heat my house.

            At first he was back and forth between what I knew about both candidates, then he focused on Halverson, just as he did about Schuster. I told him that I hadn’t received much mail from Halverson, please tell him to send more. My wood burner appreciated it.

            Several times he would say, “We’re almost finished. We’re coming to the end, but what came to an end was my patience. He persisted on asking more inane, repetitious questions. I was waiting. I knew that he would eventually say, “We’re coming to the end.” When I heard those words, I said, “I know. I have reached the end of my patience” and hung up on the guy.

            Several seconds later, the phone rang again. I knew that it had to be him. If it wasn’t, it would go to the answering machine and I could call the person back. After about five rings, it stopped. If he calls back later this evening, I have a loud plastic whistle to greet him. That’s the only thing about the newer phones. I can only press a button to disconnect. I miss being able to slam the receiver down in the annoying person’s ear.