“May I ask who’s calling?” I asked in the crisp office voice I’ve cultured ever since I was reassigned from the database to Anything But the Database.
“Prince Books.” Startled, I considered asking the caller to repeat himself, but despite the improbability of receiving a call from royalty at the graduate office, I was certain of what I’d heard.
I walked to into Dr. S’s office and asked, perhaps with a bit too much pomp and circumstance, if she could take a call from Prince Books.
For a split second, she too, looked alarmed until she paused, mentally reassigning stress to the appropriate syllables. Her lips crinkled a bit at the edges, but she quickly gained command of her composure before taking the call.
This is more than I can say for myself, as I walked back down the hall, remembering exactly what we do at the graduate office—you know, things like procuring text books from publishers, and the like.
For some reason I think the word “telephone” is about to be edited from my job description.