I'd been expecting a call from my folks - we'd been planning to do some shopping together in Morrisons, because my local Farmfoods has been shut since Monday pending refurbishments and expansion into bigger premises, and they'd said they'd come along and pick me up - so I was quick to answer the phone.
Now if it's the folks, no worries. And if it's automated spam, likewise no worries: I just hang up.
It was a human on the line. Spammer, selling boilers.
So ...
I began by confirming that I was the husband of a "Mrs Linda Jones" (which meant they must be targeting random numbers in Wales - in England it would probably have been "Mrs Linda Smith"). The girl asked me if she could talk to Mrs Jones. I told her that she'd just had to go and get something from the car, but if she would care to wait for her to come back, she could chat to her heart's content with her.
I then buttered up the girl by telling her that, by a staggering coincidence, we'd just discovered that our old boiler was actually on the fritz, so we could well be in the market for a new one so if she had the patience to wait for my Linda to come back, she could actually get a commission on the sale if things worked out. I did ask her if she accepted commissions, of course.
I asked her if she was ready to wait, because Linda might be a few minutes longer than planned - the car was in the parking garage, four flights down - we live in a block of flats - and the lift was out of order. Apparently, it was stuck at the top floor and had been for about a week. Nothing worse than a lift that wouldn't go down, I told the girl; and when it's working properly, the lift was very smooth, going down.
I asked her if she lived in anything like a block of flats. She told me that she didn't. I told her that it was very relaxing, being in the lift, although it was very slow at times when it was going down.
I then asked her if she was okay with waiting a little further, and she agreed. I told her that Linda might take a while, her knees not being so good these days and all, so she might as well relax. She told me that it was difficult for her to actually relax at work, because it was usually so stressful. I just told her that she had a strong chance at securing a sale if she hung on a little, or she could just take her chances with the next one. Take her chances, or an almost guaranteed sale. Her choice.
I could hear her relaxing over the phone as she settled in.
I then gave her a relaxation exercise. The exercise I use on myself when I need to wait. "If you close your eyes,"I told her, "you can hear your own heartbeat. Try it."
A moment of silence followed. "Can you hear your own heartbeat? It's pretty cool. And now you can relax and let your heartbeat slow down. The more you relax, the slower your heartbeat, and the more your stresses, like your thoughts, melt and drift away.
"Thoughts calving off like icebergs, melting away and thoughts dissolving into nothing in your head, like a clock steadily winding down, drifting and sinking lower and deeper each time, your thoughts slowing as you are coming to a halt, your eyelids closed, your mind emptying, emptied, your worries and woes and cares a phantom, a wisp of smoke carried away on a gentle breeze, gone, carried away, drifting, sinking deeper and lower, sinking, drifting, slower and lower, until your mind is an empty void, clear and empty and still, all the turbulence gone, your heart rate slowed, your body relaxed, and the only voice in your head is mine; my voice, in the centre of your head, and floating all around. Only this voice, in the centre of your head, and floating all around. My voice, the only thing breaking the silence, in the centre of your head, and floating all around. Whenever I say 'my voice, in the centre of your head,' you always respond with the words 'and floating all around.' Do you understand?"
I heard her reply "Yes" in a flat monotone. I had her.
I gave her some instructions - the instructions you find here - and followed up with instructions.
With luck, she should call me tonight, right about the time that this blog post goes live.
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