I paced back and forth across my office as my phone spewed hold music from my desk, absentmindedly swinging a golf club at the air. The sun was beginning to set over the peninsula out of my corner window, its rays glittering off the water like so many diamond—
‘Hello, this is O’Shauggnesy O’Realtors, how can I we help you today?’
I flew across the room to pick up the handset.
‘Finally!’ I crowed into the phone. ‘I’ve been on hold for hours!’
‘We’re sorry about that, sir,’ the woman replied, in a tone that was anything but apologetic. ‘How can I help you?’
‘I’ve been trying to organise a showing of my house with you people for weeks, but nobody has returned my calls!’
‘That’s disappointing to hear, sir. Let me patch you through to our customer service department—’
‘No!’ I cried out, loud enough for my secretary to poke her head into my office. It was too late: the hold music was already playing in my ear.
‘Can I get you a glass of water or something?’ my secretary asked, nervously hovering.
I took a deep breath through my nose, trying to bring down my blood pressure through sheer force of will.
‘No, thank you Shireen,’ I eventually smiled at her. ‘I would like a list of all the best building companies on the Mornington Peninsula though, quick as you can.’
‘Building companies, sir?’ she asked, confused.
‘Yep,’ I nodded. ‘I want to tell every company worth dealing with that O’Shauggnesy O’Realtors aren’t worth dealing with!’
‘Is that a good idea, do you think, or…’
‘You’re right,’ I sighed, slumping down in my chair. She smiled, pleased with herself.
‘Get me all of the luxury residential architects too. Let’s get niche with this campaign.’
Shireen sighed and pulled out a notepad.
‘Anyone else, sir?’
I shook my head no, then flung a finger into the air with a thought.
‘Bakeries!’ I cackled. ‘Let’s see them sell a house without any muffins!’
Shireen rolled her eyes.