Death!

Ohmigod, you guys!

I just talked to Death!

OK, calm down, focus on the subject. Everyone who works in my office who has been here less than a year has to "pay their dues" by covering the front desk while the receptionist takes her 2 breaks and 1 lunch. I have done it once or twice a month for the past 10 months. Cool.

Today I got a call from a man I swear was Death himself! If someone were transcribing my life (which I fancy they do, to be later turned into a blockbuster movie, or at least a made for TV drama) then this guy would most def be speaking in lower caps. Not shouting, but not speaking as the rest of the world defines it.

First of all, his voice was so low that it was on the edge of the aural register. I seriously had to strain to hear him. Also, he spoke in a raspy, halting voice. Like someone who isn't really used to speaking out loud. More like he was used to speaking telepathically to the recently deceased.

Maybe if he was in a good mood and he had laughed I would have come away with a picture of Santa Claus. Instead he was irritated and I was left with a mental picture of a cowl and scythe.