“What a time to be alive!”

Timothy Dawn is on his mandatory fifteen-minute break for all customer service representatives. Pete is forging in his coleslaw, and Wendy is admiring her new seasonal-themed nails. Neither party answers his botched attempt at communication. He has a reputation for being “extra” and “a bit too much.” He likes to try with people every now and again just to make sure some higher power hasn’t unplugged his microphone. His headset dangles on the back of his chair like a seductive finger inviting him back. He spends his break shoving a flabby, flavorless pancake around his plate and he lies to his coworkers.

Not granular, chunky, incriminating lies—smooth and silky lies which he uses to accessorize his life and create a more pixelated and pleasing picture.

“We visited the Grand Canyon last month. Stunning views and yet so serene. Have either of you ever been?”

He does wonder if either of them has ever been where he is. A melodramatic and engulfing place.

He doesn’t tell them that tomorrow is a memory so great and a hole so deep it cannot be measured. He doesn’t mention how he beats his hands on his chest to try to excise the grief that sits there so stubbornly. He doesn’t because he is tired of the gooey treacle of sympathetic smiles.

His first call after break is what he has been needing.

“It’s supposed to slake your thirst.”

“I’m sorry, Madam. I don’t understand what your customer service issue is.”

“That drink, you moron. It’s supposed to slake your thirst and it doesn’t—that’s my issue.”

“Okay—let’s see how I can be of assistance. I don’t recognise the word you used. Can you spell it please?”

She screams down the headset at him and Timothy flips to the de-escalation chapter in the employee handbook and switches the volume to level 7.

S.L.A.K.E.

Timothy opens a new tab and searches for the word.

Meaning—When you slake something, such as a desire or a thirst, you satisfy it.

Slake—Timothy likes it. Timothy more than likes it. He repeats it under his breath and marvels at the shapes it forces his mouth to make.

“Gosh, I do apologize on behalf of the company. That is not the customer experience we want to provide.”

“Too right, it isn’t. What are you going to do about it?”

“Well, I need some details from you to begin. Can you tell me the store you purchased the drink from, and the 15-digit code written on the back of the label?”

“Hold on. I’ll have to go and grab the bottle.”

“Certainly, Madam. Please take your time.”

“The sleeve is gone.”

She sounds exasperated now. Timothy feels the tight hammock of another’s trauma as she deep-breathes down the line.

“My son is four and he must have removed it.”

“Sleeve?”

“The plastic sleeve around the bottle, you idiot.”

“Please refrain from name calling, Madam. It doesn’t help.”

“Well, it’s helping me. Useless, utterly useless”

Those are her parting words before she cut the line.

Employees are advised to use their own powers of discernment when deciding whether to forward a survey seeking feedback to the customer service standard provided. Timothy feels the woman may have removed some rubble from her mind by making that call. Timothy feels it took her a while but as the call progressed, he felt her anguish thawing out. Timothy feels the time they spent together will mean she won’t be ailing or lamenting that the hills haven’t been so clearly defined in a long time. Timothy feels the glorious color of having helped another.