The White House Phone Call

After the deluge of phone calls where all the voices on the other end sang the same tune—”just don’t quit“—I leaned against the wall contemplating my next move. I could quit. (I had never had a job where so many people had encouraged me not to quit within the first 15 minutes of being on the job. But I decided to stick around and judge for myself. I mean, how bad could it be?) I could tackle the list, but its contents were largely unexplained. I could handle the cook’s temper tantrum about her salary, but I felt like I needed more information. I could…

The phone rings.

Great. Who’s calling to tell me not to quit now?

The Social Secretary

Me: “Good morning, Hickory Hill.” (I have the hang of this now.)

The confident, friendly, polite voice on the phone: “Hello, this is Capricia Marshall, the White House Social Secretary.”

Me [inner monologue]: OHMYGOD! OHMYGOD! OHMYGOD! It’s the White House on the phone! The White House!

Her: “The President would like to know what Mrs. Kennedy would like served in Boston this Friday…”

Me [more inner monologue]: Okay Brett, you’re going to have to respond calmly. Like you take calls from the White House everyday.

Her: “…would she prefer…”

Me [now inner monologuing at a fever pitch]: Holy crap, this is the actual, honest-to-God White House on the phone. And Bill Clinton wants to know what someone wants for lunch? I mean, he—the President of the United States, the guy that can launch nuclear missiles, stop traffic, deploy the troops, fly in his own airplane or helicopter or shut down the government—actually wants to know what to serve at lunch this Friday?

Her: “…hamburgers…”

Me [still inner monologuing]: oh, wait, she’s going through menu items. You need to pay attention. Wait…did she really just say “hamburgers”?

Her: “…or would she prefer something else?”

Me [uncomfortable pause]: “Hi, I’m Brett, her new personal assistant. It’s a pleasure to speak with you…”

Me [internal monologue, mind completely blown]: AUUUGGGHHHMAAAHHHHGAWWWWD! I just introduced myself to the White House Social Secretary. We’re gonna be best friends. She’s going to actually know me!!

Me: “…I need to review the menu options with Mrs. Kennedy and get back to you. May I have your phone number?”

Her: “Sure, it is 202…”

Me [writing down the number]: I am going to have a direct line to someone in the White House! This is so badass! I feel so important. Wait…what were the last four digits?

Me: “Thank you. I will call you back later today.”

I hang up the phone and discover that I’m shaking. Confounded that a single phone call could generate that kind of response, I lean against the wall, close my eyes and take some deep breaths to calm myself down.

Reviewing the Menu

As instructed, I write my menu question on a notecard for review. There was a specific spot where I was to place those notecards, although I don’t remember the exact location anymore. Nonetheless, I left the card in the proper spot and decided to tackle the issue with the cook. I went downstairs to my “working office” (which was really a desk in the corner of the den) and called the accountant.

After the phone call, I’m rooting around my desk and grimacing at my vintage computer when I hear, “young man! Brian! Can you come here please?”

I go upstairs and am treated to a withering diatribe about my handwriting that ends with, “I can’t read this. Who spells ‘hamburger’ with a ‘z’?”

Now, I have always been told that I have very nice penmanship. People describe it as “architectural” and “structured” and “blocky.” It’s not cursive, it is print and, up until this point, I thought it was very readable. I do, however, write my “a” as a double-story lowercase (versus a single-story lowercase) because I think it brings some style to my writing.

Apparently she saw a “z” not an “a.” Apparently it really frustrated her. And, apparently, it frustrated her so much she decided not to answer the question because she immediately began talking about her luncheon party coming up in a few hours.

Which I will talk about in my next Camelot entry in a few weeks.