Another humbling conversation with T Mobile

I just got off the phone with T-Mobile after trying  to get a hold of them all day, which was akin to a technological Olympic event. How do you get a live person anymore? I need it like air.  No glitches, no lags, no typos, just you and me.

I was panicking because my high speed Hotspot is endangered. I'm  not the most patient person when it comes to customer service, especially when you have to over explain the issue, repeat the password you keep forgetting, and wait on hold for seemingly simple straightforward answers.  Add the pressure of Coronavirus and you've got a real live plot, the tension threatening to reveal who will be the protagonist and who will be the antagonist in this situation; in these uncertain times, a phone call is rarely just a phone call.

I don't know exactly when in the conversation it occurred to me that I wasn't really talking to "Tmobile," but rather to an actual person dealing with the exact same thing we're all dealing with. He, too, is scared. He, too, has a family. He, too, is not immune. I realized that right now, everyone, everywhere, has something in common, something to talk about, no matter the language. I could literally pick up the phone and call anyone, anywhere, and not be a stranger.

"How are y'all doing over there?" I said, when we finished our business, suddenly ravenous for chitchat. I've loved getting personal with strangers on the phone ever since I was a kid calling the weatherman. "Are you all staying healthy?"

Oh yes yes, we sure are, he said, lots of lemons and lots of vitamin C.

His voice cut out at "lemons" so I had to ask him if I heard him right. I didn't want to miss out on any hope for the taking. "Vitamin C and what?"

Lemons, he said, lots of lemons. What about you guys?"

I immediately  pictured my mother's lemon tree waiting for me just outside my bedroom growing up in Los Angeles. All those lovely blossoms. "Well that's good to hear," I said. We're fine, I said, we're in Minnesota. We're hanging in there. Where are you? I asked.

"Were in the Philippines," he said. I  thought about the neighbors I grew up with from Guam and the Filipino guy I worked with at the frozen yogurt shop, The Big Chill, who I had such an enormous crush on, who I still think about to this day. I wonder where he is. I wonder where they are.

"Oh," I said, "isn't that something? That's quite a long ways from here," I said. Please stay healthy. Thank you so much for coming to work today.

Well, he said, no no no. You stay healthy. You guys stay healthy...  that's the important thing.

Well, I said, let's all stay healthy.

Yes, he said, "absolutely you are right, let's all stay healthy." He sounded bright, full of sunshine, like a lemon tree. I was certain I could see him, young and tall.

There was so much more to talk about.

I wanted to ask him about his life and his kids and if he knew about the dancing prison and what his life was like.  I pictured a shanty, whether that was right or not, but I didn't get to talk to him long enough to find out.