Job No. 7
"...Within one ring the other line patched in and a middle-aged woman appeared. One of those requisite awkward moments set in as both of us stared at each other in an initial limbo, not sure if the other was coming in all the way or not, and not sure if we wanted to say anything yet. She had raven hair that ended somewhere around the edge of the screen, and features that made me think she was Callitian, though her antennae pretty much guaranteed she was Martian. She still squinted at me with narrow green eyes.
Finally, I spoke up. Hello? I cleared my throat.
Hel-hello? she asked, I wasnt actually sure if she was getting me now.
I continued, glancing over at my workstation to read over the copy of the message transcript forwarded to my inbox as I spoke, Yes, hi. My name is Klay Lane, Im responding to a call I got last night about my application, and I was given a record number to refer to, I maintained a mostly calm tone and expression.
Yes, please, she responded, looking down at a keyboard or similar input pad off screen. She typed it in stiffly as I read it off to her, and then turned back to me, letting a little emotion slip finally as she said Im sorry, but could I have you hold on the line for just a minute? She furrowed her eyebrows and puckered her lips slightly in the expression of pity or apology.
Yes, of course, I replied shrugging, still unsure of my fate in all this matter. I waited, even more anxious now, staring at the U.T. Census Bureau logo on a red background. It toned every eight seconds or so to let me know I hadnt been bumped..."[link]