How to make a phone call

The first step in making a phone call is putting the call on your schedule. Some people might do it immediately, but you can't risk calling at the wrong time. Maybe you haven't gotten enough sleep or you are in a bad mood or something. You also have to wait for a time when the person will be at work, decreasing the likelihood that he will answer. Maybe if you give it some thought, you can get what you want without a phone call. Really a phone call would never be necessary if not for the stupidity of others. Wait a few weeks or months.

At long last, when it's the right time, find the strength to look up the number. Then, go to the bathroom. Consider your shampoo collection. Which shampoo should you use next? The "rosemary mint" from the New Orleans hotel, the "aloe vera" from Wisconsin, or the "sugared citrus" from Minneapolis? The rosemary mint looks most expensive, but Minneapolis is clearly better than New Orleans.

If you decide you like the rosemary mint best, should you use it last, so that you have the pleasure of anticipating the best? Save the best for last, as they say. Or should you use it first, because you might die before you use them all? Seize the day, they also say. You wouldn't want to die without taking advantage of the best shampoo available to you. You will probably find this decision impossible, but spend some time on it anyway.

When you have lost interest in the shampoo, put the number into your phone. Stare at it, conscious you could still turn back. Then press the call button. Count the rings, forgetting to breathe. If it rings at least five times, it'll probably go to voicemail. It does. You will have planned out precisely what to say on the voicemail in advance, so this is the easy part.

Hang up, and get as much satisfaction as you can out of crossing out the to-do list item. Then it will occur to you that getting a return call is a real risk. Remember how the person's voicemail message said "I will call you back"— so decisive. You're screwed.

Try to distract yourself with an easier task. But how can you concentrate when the phone could ring at any moment? It sits beside you, like a viper ready to strike. You have made a phone call, but it made nothing better. Someday, you will have to talk to a stranger.

Loudness and class

This morning, as I left my apartment, I paused at the sound of raised voices downstairs. Three of my neighbors were yelling at each other. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but they certainly seemed angry. I was afraid that they would get violent and the police would be called (as has happened before) and I didn’t want to get in the middle of things, so I lingered for a few seconds before going downstairs.

...Then, getting bored, I figured it would probably be okay and went downstairs anyway. As I got closer, I could hear what they were saying. The phrase “home fries and cheese eggs” was used. I realized that, far from arguing with each other, they were actually just making friendly small talk about breakfast foods and the weather and such. I had completely misinterpreted the feeling tone of their conversation–because the tone of voice they considered appropriate for friendly small talk was so loud that I would never use it unless in a state of extreme anger or fear.

Now, I am an unusually quiet person. It’s difficult for me to raise my voice even when I have a good reason to do so. So this is an introversion/extroversion thing, but I also think there’s a class difference here. In general, upper-class people perceive clearer differences between the private and public spheres; they can afford to buy a great deal of privacy. Lower-class people have less spacious and comfortable homes and are less able to afford third places such as bars, restaurants or coffee shops; their private conversations are forced out into the public sphere. Hence the hanging out on the street corner/front porch/sidewalk behavior that upper-class people find hard to understand. Hence also, I would hypothesize, louder voices, even when close proximity makes loudness unnecessary.
                                   
This must lead to lesser understanding between classes (or races). If I can misunderstand people of a different class without even hearing a word, what do I fail to understand in a real conversation? And they must be misunderstanding me too–for instance, I’ve known several people who assume that a confident person will naturally be loud, so a quiet person must be sad or intimidated. Every word an upper-class person says may come out as slightly less aggressive than intended.