And now, a word from Mr. Steve…
Hello, boys and girls! Mr. Steve here again, filling in for that scatterbrained faggotini who just can’t turn down a good project. Honestly, people: either that boy learns to say “no” every once in a while, or he ought to start packing his bags for Whitfield.
But issues of mental stability aside, as he was dashing out the door, Richard said I had free reign to discuss whatever I liked today, so naturally, Mr. Steve has chosen to discourse on his favorite topic, etiquette–specifically, etiquette and the telephone. Lesson number one: the lost art of how and when to answer the phone.
Conversing by phone is simply another way of communicating with friends, family, and complete strangers. You may not be able to shake their hand, and they may not be able to witness your grimace when they begin recounting the oft-recounted tale of their sciatic woes, but nevertheless, phone conversations are a form of social interaction and come with their own list of dos and don’ts.
It is especially important that you, the recipient of the call, greet your caller appropriately. Even if you have caller identification devices attached to your phone and can see that the caller is actually your brother Herbert, who can only be calling to borrow money to support his exotic dancer girlfriend, answering with a curt “What do you want?” is never appropriate. Nor, I think, is the generic and timid, “Hello?” I suggest devising your own unique greeting. Personally, I recommend answering as “the help.” Nothing elicits quite so much respect from callers as a throaty, haughty “Mr. Steve’s residence, who may I say is calling?” Adopting foreign affectations is also acceptable, as in the French “Allo?” and Mr. Steve’s favorite, the Japanese “Moshi moshi?”
Choosing when to answer the telephone is also particularly important–not necessarily for your caller, but for those in your physical presence. If your Aunt Sophie has driven all the way down from Schenectady to inform you that you figure prominently in her estate plans, opting to answer a ringing phone as she regales you with the madcap antics of the recent Casino Night Celebration sponsored by the Lady Banks’ Rose Cultivators Society of Terre Haute might diminish your share of the eventual loot or have you cut from the will altogether. On the other hand, should you find yourself in your bedchamber, entertaining a mortician with whom you were sent on a blind date and with whom you agreed to canoodle because he looked like fun but have lately begun to realize that he’s no more fun than your average mortician, taking a phone call might be the most discreet way of suggesting that he put back on his gabardine and scurry back to the morgue.
A final note on answering: if you are the sort of person to use a cellular telephone device–and from the looks of you, you are–do not under any circumstances answer calls during the burning-of-Atlanta scenes in Gone with the Wind, especially if you happen to be at a very special, one-night-only cinematic screening with surround sound at the Odeon Cineplex on 3rd Street. Such crimes are simply beyond the pale.
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