After my cordial "Hello," Ferdinand responds "Good morning, sir," or something to that effect.
That's my sexy low and husky morning voice for you. Unfortunately, unlike day and evening Ashley, who is a fountain -- no, a beacon -- of elegant retorts, morning Ashley doesn't have the temerity or wit to seize such a glorious opportunity.
What makes this moment even more tragic is that it's one of few occasions during which you can earn dividends (or any return, period) for waking up to a ringing phone and answering it.
Much to the chagrin of my caller friend Ferdinand, a master of marketing worthy of a case study at a community college, I am not enjoying a duct cleaning today...I should probably rephrase that when he calls again, if I am to avoid exciting the poor lad at his place of business or worse, suggesting his call is driving results.
"Clean your own ducts, buddy."
That doesn't work either. Thanks to my days in (high school) Shakespeare productions, it seems that much of my theatrics are rife with (involuntary) innuendo.
Fiddlesticks. Too bad. I need material for my next morning scam call. Any suggestions?
I will match you one day, Ferdinand.
One day.
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