<![CDATA[The Story of My So-Called Life

(In the darkness, we hear someone shuffling about. Then, a thud, followed by various curses on gods, life-partners, and furniture manufacturers. At last, there’s a clicking noise: the unmistakable sound of a cell phone being flipped open. We can almost make out the haggard, weary face of a 30something man as he presses a series of buttons, then moves the phone to his ear. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing…)

(Eventually, we hear the muffled voice of the Voicemail Lady, everyone’s favorite Midwestern librarian. She’s thanking our quasi-hero for calling and, in the blandest, creepiest, most soulless voice since HAL, expressing her hope that the people of New Orleans and the Gulf Coast are safe and comfortable in their homes–if they still have them. After a brief pause, she assumes a slighly more officious tone and encourages our caller to listen carefully to the following six options, since their menu has recently changed. The man presses “0”, but she continues. He presses “0” again and again and again. Finally, more ringing, followed by…)

ENTERGYLADY: Hello, and thank you for calling Entergy. This is Laverne. How can I help you?

RICHARD: Hi, Laverne, I’m calling to report an outage.

ENTERGYLADY: I beg your pardon?

RICHARD: I said, I’m calling to report an outage.

ENTERGYLADY: An outage? …Okay, I will be happy to assist you. (Thirty second pause. Sounds of chaos in the background. Possible birthday party for a woman named Irene or Eileen.) Is this an outage to your home?

RICHARD: Actually, it’s to the entire neighborhood.

ENTERGYLADY: Have you checked your fusebox to ensure that all fuses are set to the “on” position?

RICHARD: Ma’am, the entire neighborhood is without power.

ENTERGYLADY: Can you see any downed poles or power lines?

RICHARD: Ma’am, it’s 10:00pm. If I stepped out the door, I couldn’t see two feet in front of my face.

ENTERGYLADY: What’s your ZIP code?

RICHARD: 70117.

ENTERGYLADY: Hold please. (More waiting. Giggling and other shenanigans can be heard in the background. Possible breaking of a pinata shaped like Spongebob Squarepants, followed by the sound of a dozen of sixth graders diving for year-old Tootsie Rolls.) Ma’am?

RICHARD: (Not having the strength to correct her) …Yes?

ENTERGYLADY: I’m seeing there’s a power outage in your neighborhood.

RICHARD: (Grinding teeth) Yes ma’am, that’s the one I’m calling to report.

ENTERGYLADY: Uh-huh.

(Pause, followed by a much longer pause. Finally, after another pause…)

RICHARD: So, can you tell me anything about it?

ENTERGYLADY: Only that you don’t have power.

RICHARD: Um, that part I got.

ENTERGYLADY: (Slightly snippy) Well, what else would you like to know?

RICHARD: Can you tell me what’s wrong? Is it being worked on? Do you know when we might get power back? I mean, I understand you guys are really busy right now, but I’m trying to do some work myself, which, in my case, requires me to be online, which, in turn, requires electricity. If you could give me a rough idea of how long we’ll be in the dark, it’d be really helpful in planning my schedule.

ENTERGYLADY: (Finally realizing Richard’s a guy) Just a moment, sir. (Another pause. It’s clearly a bachelorette party, probably for a woman named Arlene.) Okay, sir, according to my records, your ZIP code is scheduled for restoration sometime between now and February 1, 2006.

RICHARD: (Clutching his head, having been down this road with every single service rep every single time he’s called Entergy) Ma’am, I don’t know if you’re from New Orleans, but not all areas of 70117 are the same. Some parts of it, like the Lower 9th Ward, were hit hard by Katrina and haven’t been restored at all. Others, like my neighborhood, have had power for nearly two months…. What I’m saying is, the outage I’m calling about is not due to Katrina–not directly anyway. This is a new problem. This is because of a fire or lightning or because a squirrel crawled into a transformer.*

ENTERGYLADY: Well, sir, I don’t know about any of that.

RICHARD: You don’t know anything about it at all?

ENTERGYLADY: Entergy New Orleans isn’t posting updates right now. They haven’t been for a while.

RICHARD: …I simply can’t imagine why such an effective, efficient company would be filing for bankruptcy….

ENTERGYLADY: Sir, if you you want my personal opinion–and this is just me now: if I were you, I’d sit tight and read a book.

RICHARD: I’d love to. Can I borrow your night-vision goggles?

ENTERGYLADY: You have a good night, sir, and thank you for calling Entergy. (Covering mouthpiece with hand) Go on, Imogene! Work it, girl!

(A click, then a dialtone. Our quasi-hero flips his phone shut, swats at a stray mosquito, quickly retrieves a beer from the rapidly warming fridge, downs two Tylenol PMs, and settles down on the wooden floor of his living room, dreaming of being startled awake by the sound of hundreds of lamps and microwaves and AC units all turning on at once.)

* Not made up: in October of 1995, a massive power outage was caused in the French Quarter and Faubourg Marigny when an intrepid squirrel crawled into a substation and shorted out a transformer.