III. The Favor
He fished his cellphone out of his shirt pocket. He glanced at his boss’s phone at the coffee table, and then looked back at his own. He glanced at his boss’s bought-last-Tuesday phone, and then looked back to his three year-old phone. He then glanced at his boss’s cellphone with the shiny film-layered sensitive touch screen and then he looked back to his phone with the faded QWERTY keypad. He glanced at his Boss’s phone covered with clear silicon and steel side-guards, then looked back to his phone which seemed to be scratched on every available surface.
Jeremy sighed. He made a mental note about looking for a new phone on his next payday.
He dialed a number on his ancient, Dinosaur-molested phone. The call connects.
“Hello, Cliff. How are you? I was just wondering if I could…”
“You ball-lacking cretin! I just lost my wife here, buddy. And now you’re already calling me for your MONEY?! I’m grieving right here, amigo, you cocksucking…”
“Cliff, shut up. You don’t have a wife. You don’t even have a girlfriend. It’s me, Jeremy. This is my new number. Well, my number for about five months now, so not particularly new.”
“Oh,” the voice said, suddenly relaxed. “Hi, Jer. Thought you were somebody else.”
“Figures.”
“Hey! You don’t sound like Jeremy…”
“It’s me, Cliff. This is my phone-voice. Sounds professional, huh?”
“Sounds gay.”
“Oh,” Jeremy exclaimed. “I always thought I sounded sexy on the phone.”
“Nope,” Cliff assured. “Hey man, disregard what I’ve said. You’re not really ‘ball-lacking’, you know,” Cliff said, chuckling.
“Uh-uh. But what’s with the ‘my-wife-is-dead’ thing?”
“Well, there’s this gay guy, I owe him three grand…”
“THREE GRAND?!”
“Well, yeah. Anyway, it’s a long story, it so happened that you sounded just like him.”
“Woah,” Jeremy said. “You mean you’re not kidding when you said I sounded gay on the phone?”
“No, really. Sounds gay to me. Do I have to put it in writing and swear on the bible or something for you to believe me?”
“Okay, okay,” Jeremy said, defeated. “Now, Cliff, will you do me a favor?”
“WHAT?! I’ll do you for a favor? You finally came out of your closet? I didn’t know you were…”
“I’m not gay Cliff. I said: DO ME A FAVOR, DO-ME-A-FEIGH-VOHR, got it? What? Do I have to put it in writing and swear on your mother’s grave or something?”
“Woah, there. Chill, I got it… Hey! My mother’s not dead yet!”
“Oh yeah. Sorry. Just making a point here.”
“’Kay, what is it?”
“What’s what?” Jeremy asked.
“Your favor. F-A-V-O-R. Favor. Do I have to put it in writing and…”
“Stop that, Cliff.”
Cliff laughed. “Shoot.”
YOU ARE READING
INTERFERENCE (A Short Novel)
FantasíaFalsely accused for messing up his boss's cellphone, Jeremy Sanders -- a corporate man -- goes to his old friend, Clifford Crae -- a techno geek -- to try to solve the phone's problem. But the problem is, they can't figure out what the problem is...
